


I Know (The Past will catch You up)

by Simarillion



Category: Red Dragon (2002)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simarillion/pseuds/Simarillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes one can not escape the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Know

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Malakai_Amlug
> 
> Disclaimer: All of the characters used in this story don't belong to but are creations of the amazing imagination of Thomas Harris and were embodied by Anthony Hopkins and Edward Norton. I don't make any money with this but I am enjoying this little trip to the Caribbean with them.  
> The quotes and the chapter titles are taken from songs by Placebo. They aren't mine either!
> 
> A/N: The rating is not only because of the sexual content. There might come up some scenes that contain gore and violence.

_"I know, you've got me wrapped around your finger,  
I know, you want the sin without a sinner."_

The warm and tropical air was heavy with the scent of bougainvillea and open fires. Voices –human   
and animal—were carried up the empty streets and made everything feel more alive.

The house was dark and in the twilight of the porch Will sat in his big chair, eyes closed and sipping   
dark Caribbean rum. He listened to the sounds of a typical evening and drowned his thoughts in the   
brown liquor. This was his daily ritual, for it was the only way how he was able to get any sleep. His   
demons were not able to reach him through the haze of the alcohol.

The sun slowly descended and painted the sky in brilliant fuchsia sparks and purple swirls. Between   
these vibrant colours were thin veins of crimson. Bright and red, sending shivers down Will's spine.

Shadowy figures crawled out of his subconscious, clawing out into the open. Faces empty, glazed eyes   
and rivers of crimson blood flooded his mind and Will dropped the tumbler of golden-brown liquid, to   
claw at his hair and curl up in the chair, fighting the panic attack that had him shaking. He tried to   
lock his memories back up but fear had its teeth in him and simply refused to let go. Will's breath   
caught in his throat, no longer providing any oxygen to his lungs. His whole body trembled as hot   
tears ran over his cheeks and the long scar, burning his face.

Voices accused him of failing them, sending them to their death. Lounds' burned and charred features   
with Mrs Hobbs' dead eyes and everywhere was so much blood.

After a couple of breathless gulps, he was able to get his body under control again and uncurled   
himself. Heaving himself out of the chair, Will stumbled over the porch to the door, entered the dark   
house where he immediately headed for the bar and the bottles of rum.

The slow and comforting burn of the high-spirited drink over his throat helped him to centre on the   
distraction and let go of his haunting mental pictures. His throat worked hard, his Adam's apple   
bobbing, as Will took big gulps, downing almost one quarter of the bottle in one go. Once more he   
raised the bottle and emptied it further.

A comforting drowsiness took hold of his senses and his vision became blurry. Slowly he sank down to   
the floor and lay down, staring at the ceiling. The whole room started to spin, making him even   
dizzier. His head felt strangely light and heavy at the same time. His thoughts flitted with light speed   
through his head, too fast to be grasped. He felt slightly sick, his head too heavy to lift from the   
ground and so he stayed, lying still, willing it all to go away.

The sounds outside which had been familiar and comforting minutes before, were suddenly painfully   
loud and hurt his ears. He needed peace and silence but he wasn't able to get up to close the open   
door. He covered his ears with his hands and pressed them hard against his head to shut everything   
from the outside out. Harder and harder he pressed until he felt the pressure inside his head. More   
pain to block out the other pain. Why was there always so much pain?

Will's eyelids got heavier and heavier with every passing second. Soon they dropped closed and the   
calming darkness behind them let him slowly drift off into sleep.

 

> The corridor was endless. The cold walls were screaming at him with voices of people he hadn't been   
> able to save. There were doors on his left side. Behind each of the barred doors was one of the faces   
> that haunted him constantly.
> 
> There were the high school girls Hobbs had killed; there was Mrs Hobbs and the girl that had   
> survived. Hobbs was behind the next bars.
> 
> Will fought to go on and pass all the accusing figures drenched in blood. He knew that there was   
> somewhere he had to go, something he had to do, to see.
> 
> Behind the next bars and doors were Lecter's victims. The hunter, Raspail and he even saw the   
> Princeton student. All were staring at him with their glazed, dead eyes.
> 
> It felt as if the corridor was getting narrower with every step he took. The air stank of fear and blood   
> and death.
> 
> Now he saw the Jacobis and the Leeds, Lounds was behind the next door and of course there was   
> Dolarhyde too. He breathed fire and laughed at Will who was about to turn and run. But he had to go   
> on. He just knew that he had to.
> 
> When he saw who was behind the next door, he got sick and threw up.
> 
> Molly and Josh stood silent at the bars and stared listlessly ahead. They were not covered in blood but   
> the mere thought of them being at this place made Will sick. He hurried to reach his destination.
> 
> Finally he arrived in front of the last door. This one was made out of durasteel glass and there was   
> nobody behind it. But on the glass were two words smeared on it with something red.
> 
> "Dear Will"
> 
> And Will screamed.

_"I know, you cut me lose from contradiction,  
I know, I'm all wrapped up in sweet attrition."_

Will screamed, woke and sat up. A moment later he threw up. Slowly he crawled away from the mess   
he had created and climbed up on the couch, using his higher position to get up standing. With   
unsteady steps and much help from his hands, which clung to the furniture on his left and right, he   
was able to make it to the bathroom.

His head hurt awfully. There was already the dull throb of the nearing hang-over.

In the bathroom he leaned over the sink to take calming breaths. With one hand he turned on the   
cold water tap. Cupping his hands he let them fill with water and splashed the liquid on his face,   
washing it and rinsing his mouth. He repeated this action a couple of times until he didn't feel as dirty   
anymore.

Looking up, Will's eyes immediately locked on the scar prominent on his face. It was the reminder on   
the last job he had done for the FBI. It was also the reason why Molly had left him in the end. She   
hadn't been able to bear being reminded of the happenings in Marathon. She had wanted to forget   
but with Will as a living reminder it had not been possible. Half a year later after the night Dolarhyde   
attacked them, she had wanted the divorce, leaving Will on his own and he had done the only thing   
that had come to his mind, run. He run for some time but in the end he had been drawn near again.

Will refused to live in the States again but he lived as close as he was willing to get and so he had   
bought a small cottage in Trinidad where he worked as a mechanic, repairing boat motors.

Tracing the scar a last time, Will forced himself to look away from his reflection. Somehow he felt the   
odd longing to smash every mirror in the house but the resemblance to what Dolarhyde had done   
made him shudder and so he just forced himself to leave the bathroom and climb the stairs to his   
bedroom. He needed some sleep, but without the dreams this time.

 

His eyes cracked open and the weak rays stealing through the shutters stroked with light fingers over   
his pillow and his face, spending some warmth. The dull throb in his head made his eyes water. He   
had known that he'd have a hang over but it had been a long time since it had been this bad. With a   
tired groan he climbed out of his bed and padded to the bathroom where he turned on the shower,   
letting the cold water pour down until the warm water came.

Stripping his soiled shirt and the shorts, Will got under the warm spray and rinsed all the dirt and   
grime off his body. He took the bar of soap and rubbed the cleansing into his skin. The warm water   
became warmer and then turned scorching hot. But he didn't stop the water or step out of it. He   
continued scratching and rubbing his skin until he was satisfied. Until he was clean again. Until his   
skin was lobster red.

Will grabbed one of the towels hanging from the rack next to the shower stall. The cloth burned on   
his sensitive skin but he had to endure the pain because he had to get ready for work. Dropping the   
towel, he reached for the body lotion. The cool crème felt relieving and Will smeared liberally.

Clean and lotioned he stepped up to the sink and reached out for his toothbrush. The whole time he   
avoided to look into the bathroom mirror. He had made a habit of aing ing reflecting surfaces.

When finally everything was finished, face and body clean, clothes fresh and hair brushed, Will went   
downstairs to the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, he took out the coffee and prepared the coffee   
maker. While the black-brown beverage was slowly dripping into the glass pot, he grabbed the mop   
leaning next to the kitchen door and headed for the living room to clean it. The sour smell of vomit   
made him gag, the whole stench effecting him even worse because of the hang over he was   
harbouring. After finishing with the mess he had created the night before, Will strolled out on the   
porch and got the tumbler he had dropped the evening before.

There was the sound of children laughing outside. Some birds chirped and sang. The air was fresh   
and spicy and the golden morning sun spent balming wh.  
h.

Inside the kitchen the coffee was finished and he took his clean mug out of the sink, filling it. The   
caffeine travelling through his veins woke his whole body up, spending enough energy for the new   
day. Will was grateful that such a drink like coffee existed because he knew that without his daily   
caffeine dose he would be unable to drag himself out of the house.

A short glance at the kitchen clock and he knew that he had ten more minutes before he'd have to   
leave. The half cup of coffee warmed his hands and it's fragrance scented the room. Will drank the   
rest of the dark beverage and rinsed the mug in the sink.

Seven more minutes. He left the kitchen and went to the entrance. Putting on his shoes, Will took the   
old Fedora from the hat rack and put it on. The last thing he needed to get going were hi sunglasses.

Now Will was good and ready to go. He closed and looked the front door and climbed down from the   
porch, heading off to work.

_"I know, the past will catch you up as you run faster,  
I know, the last in line is always called a bastard."_


	2. The Crawl

_"That could not make you stay   
It's way too broke to fix"_

 

The air was more humid than he preferred but then again he had spent the last years in Brazil and so had had enough time to get used to it. The time spent with Clarice had been quiet and peaceful. He had stayed out of public during his stay in Rio de Janeiro. But when he had decided a couple of weeks ago that it was time to move on, things had changed.

For years his surrogate sister had been kept calm and complacent with the help of drugs and hypnosis. When he had stopped drugging her and she had awakened, she had started screaming and only stopped once he had tranquilized her. Realizing that he couldn't keep her anymore, he had committed her to the best asylum he could find and packed his belongings to leave yet another home town. The decision to come to Trinidad had been a spontaneous one. It was not like he came here because of the culture. It was nigh on impossible to find a big, good opera house here or bigger galleries. Something had just told him to come here and that was why he was wandering around the alleys of Trinidad.

The narrow street was dusty and too dirty; to be expected in the Caribbean but it didn't mean he had to like it. The children playing outside ran after a lumpy ball. From a small garage at the end of the street a small and dirty dog jumped after them, its small pink tongue lolling as the animal tried to keep up with the much bigger humans.

"Dog!"

Hannibal froze in his tracks, turning his head in the direction of the familiar voice and watched Dr. Alan Bloom stepping out on the street, beckoning to the filthy animal. The man looked tired, and there was something anxious in the way he walked. Hannibal was stunned for a moment - what was the FBI forensic psychiatrist doing here?

"Dog! Come here!" the call was underlined by a determined wave of his hand but the dog just stood still and blinked confusedly at the doctor. "Dog!"

"Alan, leave him be."

The new voice took Hannibal by surprise but he immediately slinked into the shadow of a tree to watch the interaction without being noticed. If Bloom's Chicago slang had been a surprise, the new voice was a soul-felt shock. What fate had brought him back to Will Graham?

The former FBI profiler joined Dr Bloom in front of the garage. He was heavily tanned and his sun bleached hair stuck to his sweaty face. He wore khakis which were oil stained in some places, sandals, a rumpled t-shirt and a tattered Fedora. He wore sunglasses too. He turned his face to the side, Hannibal was able to see the long scar following the curve of his cheek.

"Let the dog run after the children." He crouched down to pet the small animal which jumped up at the man. The tired laugh this was able to provoke made Hannibal frown because he knew how vibrant and alive Graham had once been.

"What do you want, hmm?" He reached into one of the pockets of his khakis and took a piece of dried meat out which he held out to the animal. "Here you are, wise guy." The treat was rewarded with a slobbery doggy kiss and then it bounded down after the kids, playing with their ball.

Will got up again and walked up to Dr Bloom, squeezing his shoulder as he passed him by. The gesture was like everything else about him, tired and wary. The other man followed his former colleague to the top of the street. They passed Hannibal without even noticing him. Close up he was able to see the exhaustion in Will's blue eyes.

After the two friends had disappeared around a corner Hannibal made to follow them, always staying far enough back to stay hidden from them. He watched Will closely, noting how the way he moved, the things that made him flinch almost imperceptibly. He wanted to hear what the two talked about – they were too far away to hear them – but so he had to read their body language instead. It seemed like they were having an argument.

Dr Bloom was wildly gesticulating with his hands, seemingly emphasizing what he was talking about, while Graham just listened, and shaking his head tiredly in negation from time to time. Whatever Bloom was trying Graham to convince of; the other wasn't inclined to agree with him.

Hannibal followed them through alleys and streets until they reached a small cantina. The establishment was in a narrow side alley almost hidden from sight. It didn't look like a place tourists frequented, more like the clientele only consisted of natives.

 

_ "Don't go and lose your face   
At some stranger's face"_

 

The interior was dark but surprisingly clean. He noticed the table Graham and Bloom had chosen and picked his own as close as possible, easily remaining hidden in the shadows. Sitting down he picked up the menu and scanned the food on it. They were mostly traditional Caribbean dishes but there were also Indian, Chinese and Mediterranean dishes. A glance over at Graham and he noticed that the two friends had already gotten their drinks. In front of Bloom was a glass of lemonade. The glass from which Graham was drinking was filled with a milky, white liquid.

"Sir?" He looked up at the man waiting on him. The dark face was of middle age and open, laugh lines around his mouth. "What can I get for you, sir?"

"I'll take what the blonde gentleman over there is having."

"A glass of soursop squash?"

"Yes, and a bowl of chilled cucumber soup. That would be all." The man scribbled his order on a small notepad and turned back to the counter, behind which a young girl cleaned glasses. Only a minute later a glass was placed in front of him and spoon with a serviette laid out for later use.

Hannibal refocused his attention on the table with the former and the current FBI profiler and watched the one-sided conversation taking place, one-sided because Graham seemed to have nothing to say at all to his friend. Bloom was the one doing the talking. There was a lot of frustration in Bloom's demeanor and a lot of indifference in Graham's.

Suddenly the animated man jumped up from his chair and glared at his opposite. Loudly he hissed: "How can you say that you don't care?! You have to come with me. It is for your own safety and although I would never ask you to get fully involved you might even be able to help."

This only provoked a shrug from the other man and Bloom plopped, resigned back on his chair. Now that he was speaking quietly again with Graham, Hannibal started to think about what he had meant. We need your help. The only 'we' that would dare to demand the former FBI profiler's help would be in fact the FBI and when combined with the offer of safety it could only mean that they wanted Graham to lead the search for him.

So now Will Graham knew that he was somewhere near. Of course he didn't know that it was actually such close proximity but he was now aware of the danger he could be in if Hannibal was interested in killing him, which he wasn't quite sure of. It was true that in the past he had tried and failed to kill Graham but somehow the urge to finish what he started back then wasn't there.

Eyeing the blonde man closely he noticed that he wasn't nervous or in any way effected by the news he had just received, in fact it looked like he was relieved. Why, that remained to be seen. Maybe Graham was glad to know where he had been all this time. Not knowing could be worse than knowing after all.

Again Bloom was talking to Graham and again the same disinterested stare at the glass in front of him. It didn't look like Hannibal needed to worry about Graham hunting him any time soon. The man was more than disinclined to help with what the FBI was unable to do themselves.

The waiter returned to his table and put a bowl cucumber soup in front of him. When the delicious smell of the food caught his attention, he noticed that he hadn't even tried the drink yet. Hannibal took a small gulp and a surprisingly good flavor spread over his tongue. He hadn't expected the drinks or the food to be of such quality. The look of the establishment betrayed its worth. But then again this wasn't a place of a lot of money. Probably the patrons/owners couldn't afford redecorating the cantina.

After a few spoonfuls of soup and some more squash a movement to his left caught his eye and he glanced up to see Bloom throw a couple of crumpled bills on the table and dash out of the establishment. Obviously the two men had had another argument and this time Bloom had preferred leaving to starting another round of discussions.

Hannibal noticed how the waiter slinked over to the now lonely man and bent low to talk to Graham, who shook his head and said something in return. The frown on the dark face made him wonder how Graham had answered but he knew soon enough why it hadn't been to the waiters liking. A glass of rum was brought to him but this time from the little girl. The man had taken over the cleaning, stealing glances at Graham.

The protectiveness of the waiter pleased Hannibal. If Graham was unable to take care of himself he needed others who took care of him. It irked him though to what the former special agent had come. He could remember all too clearly a time when he had had to watch his every step around him to keep from being discovered and now the very same man was reduced to indifference and self destruction.

He watched Graham pay for his drinks and decided to keep an eye on him. He needed some time to decide on what to do with him anyway.

 

_ "The lie will unfurl   
Lay me down to crawl"_


	3. My Sweet Prince

_ "Never thought you'd make me perspire  
Never thought I'd fill with desire"_

Today started like all his days – with a hangover. Not a very strong one but it was there, buzzing in his head and making his stomach slightly queasy. Will actually couldn't remember a hangover-less morning but then again he didn't want to think about the past, which had led him to where he was now.

He continued with his daily morning procedure, waiting for the first warming morning rays to caress his face and wake him further. Sometimes Will would get up, throw the curtains and the window open and stand in the sun heralding the day. He soaked the energy and the warmth up like a sponge. But today he just lay in bed and with closed eyes and let the rays wander over his body.

Today was Saturday and it was the first of his two days off. This meant that today was the day for shopping, cleaning, washing and cooking. He could wait until tomorrow but he liked to spend his Sundays on the beach or out on the ocean. He would take his little boat out on the open water and fish or read or spend his time dozing in the sun. The sound and the feel of the waves was better than all the alcohol on the island to keep him from remembering. Will didn't know why but maybe it was because of the safety he felt when being surrounded by all the water.

A low groan escaped him as he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the soft and warm pillow. A slight breeze wafted through the room and tickled the small of his back where the sheets had slipped away. He mumbled curses into the pillow and blindly grabbed back to tug the sheets up again. Somehow the cloth stayed out of reach though and he growled frustrated, burying his face deeper into the pillow and curled up on the mattress without a cover.

The neighbor's dog started barking, which was always the signal that the newspaper was delivered. Chico – the dog – and the newspaper deliverer shared a special bond. Although the black canine barked and growled at the man every morning, it was completely in love with its enemy. Will was sure that should the man ever quit his job, the poor beast would be heart-broken. The volume rose and the barks grew more frantic.

Will sighed and stretched on the bed until he heard his spine pop. It felt good to laze around in bed like this. He wouldn't mind doing this more often. Rolling on his side, he sat up and got out of bed. He stretched once more and padded to the darkened window. Will drew back the curtains and leaned against the frame looking out into the morning.

The sky was still silver grey with the odd golden fleck but soon it would change to the famous Caribbean blue. The breeze outside carried the scent of fresh pure air into the bedroom and slightly cleared Will's heavy head.

After watching the morning for a couple of minutes, Will turned away from the window and scratching his chest, headed for the bathroom to relieve his bladder and brush his teeth. He hated the stale taste of morning breath. It tasted like an old sock or a dirty floor.

His washings every morning were his own kind of ritual to wash away his nightmares of the night before. The length of the shower he took depended on how vicious his dreams had been and on how much alcohol he had consumed to lock the horrors back up in his mind. On some days he got away with a quick ten minute shower but on other days he stayed under the scorching spray for fifteen up to thirty minutes. He never left before he felt clean enough to face the world. In the beginning, when his nightmares had been at their worst, he had burned himself a couple of times. But that hadn't happened for some time now.

The warm water and the coconut lotion soon made Will feel freed from the memories he had had to fight in the dark and after rubbing himself dry he lotioned his body and put the beige linen slacks on. He hadn't worn them for some time now. Combined with his black linen shirt it made him look like some movie star. The thought amused him and he chuckled as he combed his hair only to towel-dry it afterward.

He didn't put on any socks, he had stopped wearing them after the first week. There was no use in doing that here, where temperatures never fell under 70°F. It was also some kind of freedom, not constricting his feet.

The whole house was filled with the pale morning light now and he crossed the entrance to the kitchen door. Will remembered vaguely spilling half a bottle of rum when he had tried to get his shirt off. The floor was clean though, nothing spilt and no trace of any dirt. It looked like somebody had cleaned the room thoroughly. Confused he trotted to the living room and just like in the kitchen, everything was cleaned in here too.

Panic started to seize him but he forced himself to calm down. It wasn't like he made a lot of mess usually. He had probably been very careful this week, causing less mess – none at all to be more precise – in the house.

Will shrugged and decided not to worry about it. He didn't want to or dare consider any other possibilities. Ignorance was sometimes a blessing. Turning his back to the mystery, he grabbed his wallet from the dining table and pocketed it. In the entrance he stopped in front of the mirror but never raised his eyes. It was some kind of weird habit of his, standing in front of the mirror but not to look at it, one more reason why some people thought him to be a lunatic.

After taking a couple of calming, relaxing, strengthening breaths, he reached for his Fedora and the sunglasses. He knew that this outfit suited him. Well, sometimes he felt like dressing up. The only thing missing here were his black flip-flops.

Now he was good and ready to go. Will opened the front door and stepped out into the new day.

_ " Never thought you'd fuck with my brain  
Never thought you'd go break the chain."_

The market was still empty at this time of the day. The sellers were still putting up their stands and unloading the goods from their trucks. Will always strolled through the market that early though, to be able to take a good look at everything before it got crowded later on.

After his brief inspection of the wares and having reserved six flying fish, limes and tomatoes, he strolled through the alleys to his favorite café.

The old establishment was the only real café in this part of the town but it was also the best one of the whole island. The atmosphere in the room was one of comfort and happiness. All the good things that had been thought and spoken in here over time could almost be felt. To Will it was a little bit like home.

He sat down at his favorite table in the back corner, grabbing the nearest newspaper and started flipping through it. He didn't have to wait for long before Louis brought his coffee. Will didn't have to place an order anymore because he frequented the café that often, the staff already knew what to bring.

The freshly brewed beverage smelled deliciously and the promising smell of the well-earned caffeine dose made him put the paper aside, dedicating his whole attention to the drink. He sighed, content after his first swallow, the hot coffee warming him from the inside out. It was as if the world got more color after a good cup of coffee, although he had to admit it was probably because the caffeine woke his brain and only then did he start to fully process the input from his own eyes.

The café was half empty and the sounds that could be heard were the radios playing in the market and the people outside chatting on the street. The new song that was being broadcasted now was a steeldrum piece that had made the second place at last year's festival. True enough, this year's competition would start in two weeks and people were getting excited about it. Everywhere children and women carried flowers and little trinkets together to give the finishing touches to their decorations. Songs were practiced and band moves choreographed.

Last year he had only been to the finals but this year he wanted to see more. Muta – his boss – and his friends were in a band that competed this time and he had promised to go to their performances. Like last year the garage would be closed for the duration of the festival and he would have more than enough time off anyway.

Will finished his coffee and folded the newspaper properly before putting it back on the stack he had taken it from. Getting up he carried his cup to the counter and laid the money next to it; waving his goodbye to Louis, he left the vicinity.

There was already a lot of hustle on the streets now and the people milled to the market. Glad that he wouldn't have to fight his way to the stands to get a look at the goods, Will just handed the money to the seller and received his bag of fish. This was repeated with the vegetables and the limes and he was out of the crowded place and back on his way home.

Today he would make steamed flying fish and he had still to bone, scale and clean them and then marinate the fish to prepare them for later usage. He also decided that since his house was apparently clean, he would make some lemonade and mango chow. He had more than enough time after all.

Walking back up his street he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the spicy Caribbean air. Opening them again he strode up the last steps to his house and climbed the stairs up to the porch. There he balanced his bags in one hand while taking his key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. Getting inside he threw the front door closed behind him with his foot, putting his keys, his sunglasses and his wallet on the small table next to the door.

Without looking up he entered the kitchen, studying his purchase, noting that Marie – the woman selling the fruit – had put some mangoes into his bag with the limes. He smiled amused. The old woman always treated him like he was her son. Since both of her children had left to find better work, she had been lonely but almost from the moment she had laid her eyes on Will she had decided to 'adopt' him.

Will was about to put the bags on the kitchen counter to unpack them as a familiar voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Welcome home, Will."

_ "My sweet prince  
You are the one."_


	4. Change Your Taste In Men

_ "Come back to me awhile  
Change your style again"_

For ten days he had been watching Will now and noticed all his habits, the way he organized and spent his days. Although a lot of times it looked like he didn't know what exactly he was doing, there was a routine after all. Most of all his mornings were strictly organized and were a repetition of the same order of actions every day.

He would wake up, shower, wash and dress. After that he'd put on the coffee and clean whatever mess he had created the evening before. At last he'd drink his obligatory cup and then leave to get to work. Today was Saturday and from last week Hannibal knew that Will would go shopping and return home to clean and cook, preparing things for Sunday so he could just laze around after a week of work.

Dr Alan Bloom had left two days after the coincidental meeting on the street and after that Will had returned to his apparently usual life style. It had been easy to see that the presence of the FBI forensic psychiatrist was stressful for him that this part of his past was something that he'd prefer to forget and hide from. But it was exactly this past that was reluctant to let him go. Every night he fought with nightmares and it was all too clear that the masses of alcohol he consumed where meant to drown his memories.

Hannibal had watched the former FBI profiler sleep for some time before he had started to wander through the house and clean it. He had decided that it was time to reveal himself to Will and he wanted the other man to be able to dedicate as much time as he needed to process the news.

So when Will woke up in the morning and started his morning routine, Hannibal waited for him to leave the house and go shopping. With all his work for the day done, the other would then have more than enough time to deal with the situation.

He waited in the living room, sipping some Myer's rum from a tumbler and thought about the time when he had first met Will Graham, the energetic but at the same time haunted man he had been. This had always been the thing about Will, behind his happiness and lively demeanor was hidden a deep well of darkness and the fear of it. It made him a great profiler but was his doom in the end. Hannibal was sure that had the former FBI profiler been more in touch and in sync with his darker side, he would have found him out much sooner than he had done and probably wouldn't have gotten stabbed.

The ability Will had was something very precious and it intrigued Hannibal that it was more a curse to the young man than the gift it truly was. In some kind of way it felt like the younger man was wasting his talent but then again, the way he treated this was exactly what made Will special. Unlike many others he didn't use his gift but tried to get rid of it. He was afraid. Afraid of himself but brave enough to fight his own demon. What really got to Will in the end, had been the strange demons of other people's minds. He had not been able to deal with all of them.

Hannibal closed his eyes and soaked Graham's aura up. The whole house was filled to the brim with Will. There was primarily darkness but as expected with a man like the former FBI `special' agent there was light too.

Cracking his eyes open again, he took a short glance at his watch and noticed that Will was probably paying for his coffee now. After a short trip to the market to pick up his purchases Will would head back home and this meant that the `show' would start soon.

He turned the glass in his hand and watched the light break in golden sparkles inside the dark liquid. The gold reminded him of a different gold that was even more beautiful to him than the one he saw now. The picture of light streaks between golden silk flashed in front of his eyes and Hannibal licked his lips as he wondered about some other taste.

It was true that he had wanted to kill Will in the past but in the last ten days he had come to realize that he was unwilling to live in a world without this fascinating man.

There had been a time when he had enjoyed the younger man's company, a time when the other had turned to him for help and guidance. Everything had been so easy back then. Now there was a history between them, a past that had left its traces on both of them.

Hannibal was willing though to forget what had happened between them. He was willing to let Will back into his life. When the decision not to harm Will Graham had been made, he had also figured out two possibilities of what to do next. One had been to step on a plane and leave – maybe to Japan? Number two had been to stay and take the next step in the unconventional relationship he and Will shared, whether the other man realised it or not. Whether he wanted it or not. He would go past being friends and do what years ago, he'd never have considered doing. Why was he considering it now? They both were different now, had seen their fair share of what the world had to offer. Back then, their positions had been different ones; they had been different.

He wondered how Graham would respond to the offer Hannibal would make. Would he have enough courage to take the next step?

The tumbler was empty now and he sat it on the couch table, his eyes fixed on the door. Soon he would be back and Hannibal would get the answers to his questions. Soon another chapter in another place would be started.

Hannibal smirked smugly as he pictured Dr Alan Bloom's and Jack Crawford's faces as they were told about the development in Will's life. He'd love to be there to at least see them if not being the one to tell them.

This amusing thought in mind he heard the front door being opened and a breeze of the spicy air wafted into the living room. Slowly he got up, strolling though the entrance to the kitchen.

In the light room, Will stood in front of the counter, paper bags in hand, studying their content. Hannibal saw the light from the kitchen window give a bright and soft shine to the golden head of the other. His fingers itched to brush over it.

A slight smile ghosted over the beautiful face as he noticed something in one of the bags. Hannibal crossed his arms over his chest and grinned cockily as he made the first step in a new direction.

"Welcome home, Will."

The words had exactly effect he had expected.

_"Dazzled, doused in gin  
Change your taste in men"_

Surprise, recognition, shock, fear and resignation flickered over Will's face with a breath-taking speed, none of them lingering longer than the tenth of a second. In the end a blank mask slipped into place, hiding his true feelings behind it.

But Hannibal couldn't be fooled, he was far too familiar with the way the other's mind worked, he knew exactly what was going on inside the man's head. He knew that the reason why Will hadn't yet turned to face him was because he was still in denial. He hoped that if he didn't get the visual confirmation of Hannibal's presence, it was all just a trick his mind was playing on him, maybe another nightmare.

Hannibal stepped to the tense back he was looking at and slowly and cautiously reached for the forgotten bags in Will's hands. The blonde flinched slightly as their fingers brushed but otherwise refused to show any sign of acknowledging his surprise visitor. Putting the purchase on the kitchen counter, Hannibal placed his hands on the counter on either side of Will.

Trapped, he did the only thing that he was able to; turn around. Slowly the blue eyes rose to meet Hannibal's, the suppressed fear shining in them.

It was very tempting to wrap the arms around the form the man so close to him but he knew he had to proceed carefully, to not make the other bolt. The trick was to calm Will enough to make him listen and think rationally. The younger man had to know what he was being offered, and at the moment Hannibal knew he could only see death.

After seeing the fear slightly lessen and the tension slowly dissolve in the lean young frame, he decided to continue.

"I sent you a letter after your capture of Dolarhyde, did you get it? I sent it to your home address."

There was a short flash of anger, which was as fast gone as it had appeared, before the scarred face relaxed again. When Will answered though, his voice was slightly hoarse.

"Yes, I got it."

"You never wrote back. You knew my address; I hadn't yet left the company of the dear Dr. Chiltern."

Again anger but after that a flicker of interest. Ah, so Will wanted to know what exactly happened to the man, he wanted to know what it was that might happen to him. Soon enough the blonde would realise that what Hannibal had planned for him was not what he expected. Lecter could only hope it would be as enjoyable as Chiltern had proved to be.

"I got your letter. But writing to you didn't seem particularly high on my list of priorities."

There was no real sorrow in Will's voice or eyes. The explanation given might be the truth but the other definitely wasn't sorry about it.

"Ah, but how rude of you, William. The shy Mr. Dolarhyde even used toilet paper as stationary to write on just to send me a letter. Are you trying to convince me that all this time you never had the chance to sit down and write a short reply?"

Hannibal crowded further in Will's private space. He wanted him to lose the unapproachable attitude and let the real Will talk to him.

"I never tried to convince you of anything."

"No, you didn't." His hand cautiously traced the bicep up to a tensing shoulder and come to rest on it. "Do you dream much, Will?" The whole demeanor was that of a disobedient dog waiting for the first blow of his punishment.

"I know for certain that you do. How long do you think I have been on Trinidad?"

Again curiosity, but this time veiled behind fear. It was a relief to see all that behind all the alcohol and angst was still the lively young man Hannibal had met so many years ago. It wasn't too late to save Will from himself. It would have been a shame to realize that there was nothing to be done for him anymore. But then again the young man was too strong to let anything defeat him. It was true that the way he had dealt with the happenings in his past was not the most exemplary one but he could have done worse, he was leading a life after all.

"You have been watching me."

It was a statement, not a question. Will knew that this was the truth. What was the use of trying to play stupid? Again the bravery Hannibal always had admired.

"I used the time to reminiscent about our past and decide about the future."

There it was again, the anger that always lurked near the surface these days. Anger about the fact that somebody dared to decide about his future. Anger about his life being shattered once more. Anger about letting the other get to him time and time again.

Hannibal took the last step that planted him right in front of Will now and leaned closer. The first reaction to this move was to still completely and await the expected attack but when he passed the face without any attempt of causing harm and the lips stopped next to an ear, Will relaxed a tiny bit.

"Meet me at the Veni Mangé at 8 pm tomorrow. How about dinner and a show?"

He retreated slowly, watching the expression on the no longer blank face. When the younger man finally weakly nodded his consent, Hannibal squeezed Will's shoulder – a copy of a gesture on another night so many years ago – and left the other's private space.

"Good bye, Will."

Hannibal turned and left the cottage as he headed into town.

_ "Waiting for the day to end  
Change your taste in men"_


	5. Special K

_ "I'll describe the way I feel  
Weeping wounds that never heal"_

Will knew exactly how a small mouse felt when facing a snake. Shocked and paralyzed. He felt so helpless and most of all sad. Each and every time Lecter had attacked him – destroyed his life – he had climbed back on his feet. No matter how hurt or defeated he had been, no matter how much of a wreck he had been, he had just started building up a new life, started to work on healing enough to claim back life.

The last time he had had to do that all on his own. No Molly anymore, who could take care of him, help him. He knew that his efforts had not been much. For years he had run away and now he was a pathetic drunk who couldn't get to sleep until he had drunk himself into a stupor.

His life wasn't exactly an accomplishment but he had always thought that it did not make sense to try too hard and create a perfect new world. If he was completely honest with himself he had to admit that he'd always expected Lecter to find him. He'd been sure that sooner or later his current life would be taken from him yet again. At least this time neither Molly nor Josh would get involved or hurt.

Will rubbed his face with shaking hands and took a deep breath. His chest hurt when he inhaled, the air burning in his lungs. Another breath and the shaking of his hands slowly lessened.

When reality caught up with him again, he noticed that his shirt stuck to his sweaty body, the linen itching slightly. He needed a good and long shower.

Putting the paper bag with the flying fish into the fridge, Will left the others packed and headed upstairs, tearing his shirt off and dropping it on the stairs. Why did it feel so suffocatingly hot in the house?

In the bathroom he got out of his slacks and stepped into the shower cubicle, turning the warm water on. He closed his eyes and let the refreshing spray wash over him, cleaning away the sweat of fear and relaxing his tense muscles.

Suddenly the face that had been right in front of him minutes ago, flashed up and panic seized him again. He reached out to rest his hands on the wet tiles, seeking hold to keep standing. His heart trying to rabbit its way out of his chest, which ached with an indescribable pain. Will couldn't help but remember words from the past, words that since being said had kept haunting him.

//I think I'll eat your heart.//

His knees wobbled and he had to sit down in the shower. Why had he ever met Lecter? Why wasn't he ever able to escape? Nothing had helped so far, not arresting him, nor hiding in Florida, not running around the world and settling down somewhere far away from the past. In the end both of them, Bloom and Lecter, had found him. Sometimes he questioned his intelligence for even trying to hide. They always got him anyway.

His shock and fear was replaced with devastation and an incredible sadness. He so wanted to live a normal life for once, without nightmares and constantly looking behind his back to check if somebody was hiding in the shadows. He had long ago abandoned his dream of somebody sharing his life. Lecter had made sure that Will had to stay alone.

//Nobody will ever be safe around you, Will.//

Why was it that others always made the decisions about how he had to live his life? First it had been Jack, who had manipulated him into working for him on cases that were `impossible' for anybody else to solve. He had always insisted on Will having the rare gift of being psychic. It had frightened him back then but knowing that maybe people would die if he was too scared to use this ability wouldn't have been something he'd have been able to answer for. Jack knew that and used it to his own advantage, practically blackmailing Will into cooperation.

The second person had been Lecter of course and he had also been the third person to decide about him. Twice the man had already done with Will how he pleased and both times he had not been able to do anything about it. The first time he had simply refused to see the truth. Lecter had not only helped with the case but he had also helped with all the fear he always carried inside him. The older man appeared to always know what to do to keep him from feeling so helpless. Many times when Will had shown up to discuss the profile of Dr Lecter himself, they had ended up talking about Will and his problems. What he hadn't known back then was that it all had been a way to fuck with his mind and keep him from discovering the truth about his `friend'. Too late he had seen through all the lies and disguises and he had almost paid with his life for it.

When Lecter entered his life for the second time, Will had thought he would pass out right in front of Lecter's cell. But Will had went to him.... All these nights filled with nightmares about this person and then the moment of seeing him for real again. It had been devastating. Like he had done the first time, Lecter played his games with him again and once more he had paid dearly for getting involved. This time was worse though because it hadn't been only he who got involved. No, this time Molly and Josh had been in danger too.

These events lead right to person number three who decided about the future course of his life. Molly. She had stood one morning in the kitchen, bags packed and Josh already waiting in the car and with few words told him about her decision to leave. Not a single tear had wetted her eyes and she never looked back. It was not like she had told him what he was supposed to do but he she had told him that he wasn't allowed to get them – her and Josh – involved in his life again. Will had lost his family.

So in some way Lecter had succeeded in the end. He had wanted to take from Will away what he treasured most since it had been Will's fault that he had lost what was the most important thing to him. Will's family in exchange for Lecter's freedom.

It was somehow ironic that the only constant he had in his life was an insane serial killer. A cannibal at that too. It made Will want to cry. He did that a lot. Cry.

Will forced himself to get up on his feet and out of the shower. Downstairs, the food he had bought was lying on the counter and it would turn bad if he didn't put it away or cook something with it. Somehow he didn't feel like eating though and so he just skimpily dried himself off, dragging on a pair of boxers and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The air was humid and the temperature was higher too, there was probably a rainstorm brewing.

The bags were hot and he hoped that the vegetables and the fruit were okay. Fortunately he had at least put the fish in the fridge. Once the kitchen was clean and there was nothing more for him to do, he sought out the couch in the living room and plopped down on it. On the couch table was an empty tumbler and he knew at once who had drank from it. Lecter had been waiting for him in the house then. He hadn't followed him to the market and back but just sat back in Will's living room and waited for him to return.

Tears started to well in his eyes and he curled up on the couch, his hard sobs tearing out of his chest. Once the tears started to come they wouldn't stop anymore and Will cried himself into exhaustion and to sleep.

_ "I'll describe the way I feel  
You're my new Achilles heel"_

The smell of steamed fish and vegetables woke him and when he slowly opened his eyes he found a plate of food standing in the place where an empty tumbler had been before he had fallen asleep. Once more panic seized him but he fought it back. What was the use of panicking now when Lecter had been here all the time while he had slept? Maybe he was still here?

Will sat up and as he did so he noticed a small envelope on the table next to the plate. There was his name written on it in a all too familiar hand-writing. He reached out for the paper, cautiously as if the letter was going to attack him any minute. When his finger tips brushed over his name on the envelope, he exhaled relieved and picked it up. Opening it he took the note inside out and read the short lines written on the sheet.

> _`Dear Will,_
> 
> I noticed that you hadn't cooked and eaten anything and so I decided to prepare something for you. Please eat, it will strengthen you and drinking alcohol without having eaten is even unhealthier than the masses of rum you normally consume.
> 
> I will meet you tomorrow at the Veni Mangé. Please don't forget the table is reserved for 8 pm.
> 
> Yours, Hannibal'

His stomach had tied itself in a huge knot and his hands were sweaty. After second to collect himself, he put the note away and reached for the cutlery. What was the use of not eating the fish. This was only the beginning of Lecter's manipulations and since he would meet tomorrow with the man to be informed about what exactly his future would entail, he could as well eat the food that had been prepared for him.

It was still warm, which meant that Lecter had left not too long ago. The fish had a nice rich flavor and together with the lime juice and the tomatoes it tasted deliciously fresh. He didn't know how the older man had known how to prepare and cook the fish but then again the other was a very good cook, he'd probably informed himself about culinary traditions of Trinidad before coming here.

His eyes scanned over the bar but when it came to rest on the rum bottles there, he shivered, remembering the empty tumbler of rum. Now he wouldn't even be able to get drunk again. There was absolutely nothing that was safe from Lecter.

Will took the plate and strode to the kitchen. Emptying the rest of the food into the garbage can, he put the dirty plate into the sink. He didn't need any more to eat. Tomorrow would show him what the future had to offer.

_ "No hesitation, no delay  
You come on just like Special K"_


	6. Passive Aggressive

_"It's in your reach  
Concentrate"_

The interior of the restaurant was modern but had an appealing Caribbean touch to it. Although one could easily see the European influences here and there, the decorations and the plants were typically Trinidad. A gigantic potted palm tree was placed in the middle of the room, its canopy reaching to the glass ceiling. All around its trunk and through its leafs twinkling lights had been woven.

The bar was made of tarnished wood and the bar top looked like they had used old, stained metal. It made a nice contrast to the immaculate white walls . Two sides of the room were wall-high, glass windows, which had wooden frames of the same color as the bar. White, cotton blinds were folded back, so people from the inside could get a look at the huge porch and the water outside.

Hannibal waited for the waitress at the entrance to look up the reservation and was guided through the room to the porch outside. Their table was on the small platform next to the pond, a couple of stairs leading down from the main porch. The outer walls next to the stairs were overgrown with bougainvillea, the blossoms of such a bright pink they almost seemed to glow.

From the table they would have the most beautiful view over the water, the vegetation and the lit porch. Next to the decking of the platform tiki torches spent more light.

He sat down and said that he would wait for his guest before ordering. Watching the dark-skinned woman retreat to the inside of the restaurant, he wondered if maybe Will had changed his mind and what he'd do if the other wouldn't show up. Would he be angry or disappointed? Hannibal wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what he felt.

Watching Will struggling on it had been clear to Hannibal that things would progress like he had planned. It was clear that they were unable to stay away from each other, so why not try to make the co- existence a pleasurable one?

His musings were interrupted when the waitress neared the table again but this time with company. The woman's companion made Hannibal forget to breathe. Will was stunning. Although he wasn't wearing a suit – as it wasn't requested in the restaurant – he looked elegant in his 'casual' clothes. He was wearing a short-sleeved silken shirt in a light pewter grey. It wasn't wide but flowed down the man's chest. The noil silk trousers were of the same pewter grey as the shirt but had thin white stripes between thicker grey ones. The final touch were the orange leather loafers, watch and bracelet he was wearing.

The grey material made the tanned skin glow with warmth and Hannibal wasn't sure what would feel softer, the light golden top of tousled hair or the silken shirt. Will's brilliant, blue eyes shone with wakefulness and life, no alcohol clouding them.

The two arrived at the table and Will slowly took his seat, all the time watching Hannibal's every move. He nodded his thanks to the waitress and she left to let the two men contemplate their orders.

"Good evening, Will. You look incredible."

Hannibal noticed the way the younger man moved his chair so he could flee easily should the need arise. Years ago he had provoked him, telling him that Will stank of fear but that he wasn't a coward. Tonight proved him right again. It was easy to see that the other was more than uncomfortable with this dinner but he had come anyway. His bravery was something that immensely impressed Hannibal.

"How I admire your courage."

Will's chair toppled over, attracting the attention of the neighbor table, as he jumped back from their table. His eyes had a wild and nervous look and his breathing had sped up.

"Please, do take your seat, Will. It's rude to remain standing while the other is sitting."

So Will was rather tightly strung. Hannibal had chosen the words he had said that fateful night to see what kind of effect they would have. He had wanted to test the water, find out how far he would be able to take things tonight. Apparently not very far at all. This was something that would take time. Will had yet to relearn trusting him. Not an easy feat but it was manageable.

"Please, no harm will come to you."

He could see the internal battle the blonde was fighting reflected in his expressive eyes. Caution, fear, anger and curiosity were fighting for dominance. In the end it was exhaustion and resignation that won out and he picked the wooden chair up from the decking, sitting back down at the table. It was interesting to see though that this time the chair was moved so Will was sitting right opposite of Hannibal. There would be no escape made during dinner. The chance to win him over was given.

"Thank you for coming. It's a pleasure to dine with you."

The compliment was answered with a curt nod of the golden head. Would the other stay silent throughout the whole dinner? Hannibal hoped not. He knew that he shouldn't become greedy and ask for more than the former FBI profiler, `his' former FBI profiler could give. But was a little bit of light conversation too much?

"I hope you had an enjoyable Sunday."

"You know very well how enjoyable it was. I am sure you have been watching me the whole day."

There was no trace of anger or sarcasm in the voice. It sounded more like something well rehearsed, bare of any inflections.

"No, actually I stayed away from you to allow you more privacy. I thought that might be a good idea. I knew I would have you to myself in the evening after all."

This surprised Will and he looked up, locking his blue with Hannibal's maroon eyes.

"Does this surprise you? You always knew that manners are of high priority to me."

"I don't expect you to exhibit manners around me, Hannibal. Killing me wasn't exactly polite." The blonde leaned on the table, closer to Hannibal. "Does this mean you'll leave me alone now?"

Hannibal chuckled amused. "Now this is something I can not do, Will. I offered once to have nice and constructive conversations but you refused back then. This time we will have those talks."

Will sat back again, casting his eyes on the white table cloth.

"I take it you aren't too enthusiastic about this but believe me, Will you'll change your mind about it.

"Can't you ever leave me alone? You won this battle years ago. You are free and I have lost my family. See, you are the winner. If you came here to kill me, get it over with and stop these stupid games."

The younger man's voice was lifeless and his shoulders were hunched down, his whole posture radiating the defeat he was feeling.

"Ah, so you think I won? Maybe I did but what good is a victory if you can't celebrate it, hmm?" He waved the waitress to their table and ordered a bottle of champagne. Once the woman had left to get their drink he refocused his attention on Will, who was staring out over the water. He truly was a sight to behold. Hannibal hadn't often felt a connection with a man but to the blonde he was drawn.

"Why do you think I am here to kill you? I already told you and you very well know that I have been watching you for some time. If my intention had been your death, we wouldn't be sitting here now."

Still no reaction from the other.

"Dear Will,.... "

"Don't call me that!"

He hadn't expected that extreme a reaction. Hannibal decided not to step back but to pursue the matter. "You are very dear to me though, Will. Why shouldn't I call you so then?"

"Just don't, please. If you want this, whatever this is, to work, you must never call me that."

"Very well then."

The matter was apparently of great importance to the blonde. Will glanced cautiously at Hannibal why unabashedly watched him. Although there was still much suspicion and caution in the blue orbs, it was clear to see that he had the permission to continue with his plans.

"Let us order dinner then."

Will opened the beautifully crafted menu and after a short glance at the prices he didn't feel hungry anymore.

"It's very expensive."

"Please, be my guest, Will."

Another second ticked by before the golden head bowed as the younger man finally settled on deciding about food.

_"Everytime I rise I see you falling  
Can you find me space inside your bleeding heart"_

Food had been excellent and what had made it even more enjoyable was that Will had actually tried to make conversation. In the beginning it had been a little awkward since the blonde had always stopped when topics had somehow revolved around happenings in his past, but after some time, their talking had been fluent and amicable.

The waitress brought their bill and Hannibal placed the money under the serviette on the plate. Raising his eyes, they locked with two blue ones who studied every of his moves. He smiled at the younger man and questioningly raised an eyebrow.

"How is the evening going to continue?"

There was no fear or anger in the voice anymore just genuine interest.

"Since I have a car, I will drive you of course. It would be rude of me to make you take a taxi when owning a means of transportation." He got up and moved around the table, helping Will out of his chair. "Please, follow me."

Without complaint the blonde followed him over the porch and through the restaurant to the exit. Hannibal felt pleased that Will hadn't flinched when he had approached him. Things were progressing well so far. Outside the building they crossed the small bridge to the parking lot and Hannibal guided him to a silver-grey Bentley.

He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Will. After the other had gotten in, he walked round to his side and climbed into the car. His heart beat quickened slightly as he took in the close proximity they were sitting in. Their shoulders almost brushing, he could feel Will's body heat.

Turning the key in the ignition, he started the car and pulled out of the lot. It was rather dark now and he had to drive slowly since there were no lanterns on the driveway back to the street. Even with the headlights on the sight was rather poor. Once they had reached Ariapita Avenue there was enough light again and Hannibal sped the car up.

The drive was spent in comfortable silence with Hannibal enjoying Will's company. He had thought that it might prove to be more difficult to get him this far. After the other's initial reaction at the restaurant it had looked like their pace would have to be much slower.

The streets were busy and full of life with everybody dashing around, carrying costumes and decorations. The atmosphere was tense with the preparations for the festival, bands practicing in every yard, the firy music filling the people with even more energy.

Although it was very different from his beloved Florence, Hannibal had started to appreciate the openness and positive way of life in Latin America over the years. Since he couldn't reside where he wanted to he had to settle for second best. Lately second had proved to be first place though. He would never change the company of the charismatic blonde for the breath taking view of Florence.

The streets grew quieter the nearer they got to Will's house. Out here where most of the white people lived, the excitement of the preparations was missing.

Hannibal liked the younger man's neighborhood though. Nice, small houses with beautifully trimmed, well-kept gardens. Everything was peaceful and he could see himself relaxing after a long day together with Will in their own cottage.

They reached their destination and he parked in front of Will's house. Turning off the motor he got out of the car and went to the passenger side and opened the door before Will could do so himself. Hannibal wanted the evening to end the perfect way and he still hadn't made his whole intention clear to the blonde. He knew though how he wanted to accomplish this.

Will climbed out of the Bentley and led the way up the stairs and onto the porch where he stopped in front of the door and turned to his `shadow'. Clearing his throat, he raised his eyes to Hannibal's face and made to say his goodbye.

"It was a nice evening. Thank you very much, Will."

Hannibal's fingers itched to caress the other's face and this time he didn't hold back. Slowly he raised his hand and brushed an imaginary eyelash away. The skin felt even softer than he had expected it to be. He stepped closer to the blonde and let his hand rest on Will's cheek. Up close the other smelled like sun and coconut.

"Good night."

Turning, Hannibal left a speechless and slightly shocked Will behind.

_ "It falls apart  
Falls apart"_


	7. Without You I'm Nothing

_"Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide  
Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide"_

Will watched Hannibal descend the stairs to the parked Bentley,  
registering the goodbye wave but unable to return it. The silver grey car  
left as he stood, still not moving a single muscle. His cheek still felt  
warm where Hannibal's hand had brushed over it. The evening breeze  
caressed his face in a mock copy of the other man's touch.

He forced himself to turn back to the door and while his hands searched  
through his pockets – few as they were – his mind was still trying to  
process what had just happened. There, finally, his finger tips brushed  
over something solid, cool, and metal and closed around it, pulling out  
the keys to his house.

The door made no sound as it was pushed open, letting warm humid air into  
the dark inside. Dazed, Will stepped into his home and closed the door  
behind him. Not bothering with things like locking or switching on the  
light, he dropped the keys on the small table and toed off his loafers.

Was this the real reason for everything? Had Hannibal been jealous back  
then when he had told Dolarhyde to kill Molly and Josh? But no, Hannibal  
Lecter didn't do jealous. So was it something new? What exactly was it?  
Why and since when? And WHY?

Padding bare-foot to the stairs, he climbed up to the bedroom. He was  
drained, so he should lie down and rest. He had to go to work tomorrow.  
But his mind was in such turmoil, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get a  
minute's sleep tonight. There were far too many things to consider and  
think about. With a small gesture, everything said and done this evening  
suddenly got a different meaning.

Will strolled into his bedroom and peeled out of his clothes. Normally he  
would fold them neatly and put them back into the right cupboard, but not  
now. He couldn't care less about wrinkles and stains.

Stretching his limbs, some of the tension seemed to disappear but most of  
it lingered.

What he needed now was a good shower, to feel fresh and clean again. He  
did that a lot here. Taking showers. In the beginning it had been  
necessary because the hot and humid weather made him sweat profusely, but  
now he was used to it. He used the time spent under the cleansing water to  
contemplate topics that bothered him.

The tiles felt cool under his feet and he stepped into the cubicle,  
turning the water on. A relaxed sigh escaped him as he felt the water run  
down his body, taking the accumulated dirt and sweat with it.

His thoughts returned to the gesture on the porch and behind his closed  
eye lids the whole scene was replayed, showing him the affection in the  
maroon eyes that followed the path of the stroking thumb.

His eidetectic mind was sometimes even more a curse than it usually was.  
Why did he have to be able to remember in every detail the way the older  
man's eyes had taken in his face, looks, and moves, the way he had held  
the car door open, and the way the frightening reddish colour of the  
perceptive eyes had softened when facing him on the porch. Will was able  
to re-feel every emotion that he had felt when the surprisingly tender  
hand had cupped his face.

A shiver ran down his spine as he groaned defeated. What should he do now?  
After the first shock of finding Lecter in his house, came the shock of  
realising that he had been watched for days. That he wasn't going to die?

Will hadn't been able to understand what exactly he was supposed to expect  
from his newest addition to his contacts on Trinidad. Of course he had  
been frightened – terrified to be more precise – but at the same time  
there had welled up this incredible anger, frustration too. Frustration  
about another life built up for nothing.

Soon thereafter he had capitulated, deciding that he simply didn't have  
the power to fight back anymore. Gone were the times when he woke every  
morning recharged and full of energy. These days had stopped together with  
his reason to fight. Will simply couldn't see what there was to defend. No  
family, no friends, he thought that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to  
stop, die.

But surrender hadn't been enough for his private tormentor. No, apparently  
even friendship was not enough for him anymore. Hannibal wanted complete  
surrender; he wanted all of Will. Heart, body and soul.

Was he able to do that? It was not so much a matter of trusting the other  
but the important question was if he still had a heart to give. Will  
wasn't too sure about that.

In the end it didn't matter what he thought or felt. Never had. People  
just took away his decisions and took over control of his life. Nothing  
new in that.

The coconut smell of the shower lotion suds made him lean back against the  
wet cool tiles of the cubicle wall and dream about things he couldn't  
have. A real home and love. Nothing much, just peace of body and mind.

Maybe he would find it where he never expected it to hide?

The water got colder and Will decided to get his exhausted ass out of the  
bathroom and into the bedroom. He was sure that sleep would prove to be  
elusive, but he had to try none the less.

Not even bothering to towel himself dry, he headed for his bed, crawled  
into it and curled up on his side. The windows were closed and some time  
during the night he would have to get up again and let fresh air in, but  
right now he felt unable to move.

Blinking tiredly, he stared into the dark of the shadows, his mind still  
turning his thoughts round and round, not finding any rest. Too many  
things to contemplate, worries to worry about, and emotions to interpret.  
Will had to make a decision soon that would change lives.

_"You're slipping slowly from my reach  
You've never seen the lonely me at all"_

Business was slow today, but that was actually a good thing, for Will was  
unable to pay attention to anything. His mind was still on the previous  
evening, his thoughts always returning to the soft caress Hannibal had  
bestowed upon him.

Will knew that this was not right, but after a long night's fight with  
insomnia and three cups of coffee, he'd decided to accept an offer made by  
the older man. Should it be made. It wouldn't do to come up with any  
conclusions after only one attempt of friendly advance. No, the offer  
would have to be clear and genuine.

Having made that decision, Will's mind was still troubled. As he before  
wondered about what to do, so was he now wondering what Hannibal would do.  
The times when he had been able to assume the man's thought patterns were  
long past, and he wasn't ready yet to delve that deep, let himself free.  
What if he wasn't able to find back out? He was afraid to lose himself.

And if he lost himself, would Hannibal find him again? Would he care to  
find Will?

The bell at the shop door rang and called his attention back to reality.  
The customer who had entered was welcomed by Muta and the two disappeared  
through the side door into the back yard.

Ah! Someone of Muta's band. A short glance at his wrist watch provided  
Will with the knowledge that only two hours had passed since his shift had  
started. Time was crawling so slowly, it felt like it was going backwards.

The side door opened and Muta peeked inside, his eyes searching for his  
employee. "Will, close the shop. The others will be over, because  
something came up with the band. Take the day off."

"Okay, thank you." The man just waved his thank you off and disappeared  
back into the back yard.

Will sighed. What now? He had the day off but nothing to do. He was not  
accustomed to things like that happening. It came to his attention how  
dependent he was on his daily schedule. He was completely lost without a  
plan on how to occupy his time.

The shop was clean, and since nobody had been there, there were no glasses  
or cups to wash. Only the coffee pot to empty and clean. With that done,  
Will grabbed his sunglasses and his tattered Fedora. Since he had no idea  
what to do, he'd take a stroll down to the beach.

He locked the shop on his way out and put the glasses and hat on. The sun  
was partially hidden behind fluffy white cotton balls of clouds. But it  
was still early by noon the sun's competition for the sky would  
completely end.

The streets were rather empty. With the children in school and the  
grownups at work, only a couple of women on their way to get their  
purchases were to be seen.

Will slowly strolled south, his hands in his pockets. His thoughts had  
once more returned to the topic that had had him pre-occupied the whole  
morning. Whenever Dr. Hannibal Lecter had made an appearance in Will's  
life, he had demanded that all attention be directed on him. It was  
actually not something the other man did on purpose, but he was a person  
who enthralled the plain human.

It was even worse for Will than for others. Nobody else had known the good  
doctor as well as he, and the man was addicting. Will could, to some  
extent, understand the scientific fascination Lecter presented. The man  
was a genius and a murderer, a madman.

The street took a sharp turn to the left, leading down to the beach. Will  
followed it down to the sand, taking off his sandals. He buried his feet  
in the burning hot grains. It felt delicious. A satisfied smile spread on  
his tanned features as he waded down to the water.

A light breeze wafted from the ocean over the sandy dunes. It caressed  
over Will's skin like soft hands. The touches called up the picture of  
maroon eyes that seemed to drink him in. Real hands that cupped his face.

He shook his head and couldn't keep himself from snorting softly. What was  
the matter with him? Two days ago he had almost had a breakdown because he  
had met Lecter again. Yesterday he had caused a minor scene at the  
restaurant because of a comment the other man had made. Today he was  
obsessed with the doctor's hands caressing his face. How sick was that?

All energy drained away and he had to sit down quickly. Small, hot sand  
grains slipped into his clothes everywhere, but Will didn't notice. Cold  
shivers ran down his spine and a cry tore out of his throat. It sounded  
wounded, calling for help.

It was all too much. His mind was in turmoil, thoughts popping up and  
disappearing almost as fast as they had appeared. It was too much.

Will was scared, but Lecter had touched a spot where Will simply had no  
defences. He simply couldn't help latching onto the offer that was waved  
right in front of his nose.

His shoulders shook with the sobs that spilled out of him. Tears made  
their scolding path down his cheeks and he buried his trembling hands in  
his hair, pulling hard. It was as if Will's body was a little boat on the  
wild sea of his emotions, being torn at and thrown around.

The breeze made him shiver even harder and he curled up in the sand, his  
heart hurting with all the pain of his current state.

Suddenly strong hands took hold of him and pulled him closer to a warm  
body.

Will did the first thing that came to his confused mind. He pressed closer  
in the search for warmth, his fingers grabbing the soft shirt and his face  
burying in the neck.

Arms went around Will's shaking form and held him still. "Sh, Will. I am  
here. Don't worry. I am here now."

_"I ... Fall  
Without you I'm nothing"_


	8. Pure Morning

_"Day's dawning  
skin's crawling"_

The younger man felt indescribable good in his arms. The other's slight  
but still powerful frame pressed up against him, trying to crawl into  
Hannibal's skin and seeking comfort from the same person that had him  
tremble with fear not more than twelve hours ago. It was incredible how  
things could change in such a short amount of time.

Hannibal turned his face slightly, burying his nose in the silken gold and  
inhaling deeply. Will smelled very clean despite the slight tint of sweat  
that was to be expected in a place of this particular climate. Underneath  
Will's own body scent he was able to make out the faint residue of the  
coconut scent of the other's shower lotion. Combined with the sharp smell  
of oil and work, it was a heady and intoxicatingly unique combination that  
greeted Hannibal.

Nothing could do this moment justice. He was able to feel the younger man  
fall apart in his arms. This sudden lowering of Will's defenses was a  
perfect opportunity for Hannibal to take the next step in his plan. He  
didn't have to worry about any sudden walls blocking him or keeping him  
from this amazing mind. Will was at a point where the older man had  
complete control over him. And nothing in the world could make the former  
psychiatrist give that up, nothing.

The sobs got softer and the vice-like grip with which Will clung to  
Hannibal's shirt loosened considerably. He watched the former FBI special  
agent closely, noting each movement. Slowly the whole body started to  
relax. The breathing, which had been hitched before, grew more even.

"You are safe, Will." There was no response to that so Hannibal slowly  
reached down with his left hand, caressing the tear-stained cheek that was  
not pressed against his chest and finally turned the face upwards. Will's  
reddened and slightly swollen eyes looked up and those incredible blue  
orbs met his maroon gaze without the slightest hesitation or fear.

"What?"

The question didn't come as a surprise, because he knew that Will falling  
apart didn't equal a complete stand-still of his restless mind; it still  
wanted answers and explanations, now maybe even more than ever. This was  
new and, for both of them, unusual territory that needed to be charted out  
and explored. Will was trying to find out about his position, about what  
Hannibal wanted, maybe even get a hint about the goal of their journey.

Once more Hannibal took a deep breath and inhaled the addictive scent of  
one Will Graham. The longer he was able to savor this closeness between  
them, the more he felt the need to ensure the permanence of this  
situation. This idea that had started as an interesting notion and nice  
twist on things had slowly but surely transformed into a certainty of how  
things were supposed to be.

"Do you dream much Will? About chances you missed? Things you should have  
done?" not even once did the younger man's demeanor change, not once did  
the former FBI profiler give the tiniest implication that he was impacted  
by the questions in any way. "I know that the past is haunting you and I  
told you years ago that you shouldn't allow your fears to take over your  
life. I even offered you to help you with your burden. I could help you  
bear it now."

Hannibal's gaze bore into Will's drowsily answering gaze, looking for any  
reaction. For a long time nothing happened, but then suddenly and very  
cautiously the younger man reached out to Hannibal's face, tracing the  
contours and mapping out the other's features.

"What exactly are you offering here, Hannibal?" Will was now slowly  
stroking Hannibal's face, "I won't fight you, I am not strong enough to  
and I am tired of fighting. But I need to know what you want. And why?"

Would the other understand? Was Will really willing to be so honest with  
himself to face and acknowledge who he was? It was difficult and highly  
dangerous to confront the other with the truth. Hannibal was not  
completely sure if Will's mind was at the moment strong enough to be faced  
with this. The difficulty was that all these insecurities and the lack of  
knowledge were just as bad for the younger man. The question was which  
option was the one to cause the least harm?

"A lot of things I said to you in the past are part of the explanation of  
the `what' and `why'. You are not ready yet, Will. Take your time to take  
one step after the other. With time you will understand."

Again there was no real reaction to Hannibal's words, but Will's hand had  
stopped its caress and was now calmly resting at the corner of Hannibal's  
mouth. "I want to go home."

"Let us go together then." Both of them remained where they were sitting  
and only with combined efforts was it possible for them to get up into a  
standing position. Hannibal tenderly guided Will away from the beach.

_"Pure Morning"_

It was close to high noon and this was already recognizable in the drastic  
increase of temperature. But not only had the temperature altered, the  
amount of people on the streets had doubled if not even tripled. There was  
a steady flow on the dusty roads, many of the civilians were dressed in  
parts of their festival costumes.

As they drew closer to the market, the air grew heavy with the smell of  
fresh fruit and vegetables, flowers, fish, and other food. The shouts of  
the sellers echoed over the streets, offering goods and trying to engage  
the people passing by.

Will unconsciously pressed closer to Hannibal, burying his fingers deeper  
in the sleeve of his left arm. The older man took the advantage presented  
and wrapped Will in his arm as if to protect him from all the people on  
the street. If the younger man knew that the incentive behind this gesture  
was not only of a protective nature, but had reasons of a completely  
different kind as well, Will would have probably not allowed the contact  
as readily.

Through the thin shirt, Hannibal was able to feel the other tremble  
weakly. He was still surprised about this development and the future that  
was now implied.

It was true that he had always been intrigued by more complex or unique  
minds. As such, the former FBI profiler had always held a fascination for  
him, even back when he had been sure that their acquaintance would end up  
differently then he was directing it to be now.

The thing about Will was that if he was caught at the right time, it was  
possible to break through the defenses he had built up to keep himself  
separated from the world around him. When Hannibal had first met him,  
these walls had crumbled to the ground only shortly before. In this  
vulnerable state it had been easy to enter into Will's mind and not only  
see the world through the FBI profiler's eyes, but also to watch the slow  
and tedious work of the defenses being rebuilt. And while watching he had  
made sure to construct loopholes to enable him a continuous entrance to  
the other's mind.

He ought to have known, though, that it would not continue like that  
forever. He had known it, to be more precise, but the younger man had been  
too fast. One holiday away from Hannibal had been all that was necessary  
to ensure that Will's incredible mind discovered the deception on  
Hannibal's side. Back then, the older man would not have hesitated to  
dispose of the threat in the person of Will Graham. These days he had  
realized that the other man was actually quite essential to him and his  
world.

They left the market with all its diversions behind and continued on  
through the more quiet back alleys. The small streets were even dirtier  
than the bigger main streets, but the enclosing houses on both sides cast  
enough shadow to prevent them from getting sun burnt. Will was actually  
used to the sun and its heat, but Hannibal was sure that he would not  
enjoy the midday sun very much.

The sound of laughter and cheerful children's shouting informed him that  
they left the center with the market and the little shops and taverns  
behind and neared the outskirts where most people lived. There was less  
dirt in this area, but as compensation, garbage bags were lying at the  
corner of every house, waiting to be taken away and in the meantime  
filling the air with a slightly sour and rotting smell.

As the alleys were constantly broadening, the litter declined and the  
houses got bigger. The two men had finally reached Will's part of the  
outskirts. The small alley made its way through cottages and single houses  
with gardens of the white population of the town. Hannibal steered Will to  
the left and directed them the rest of the way to the younger man's  
cottage. He liked the calm of Will's neighborhood.

Tall palm trees and walls of bougainvillea reminded him everywhere of  
their tropical location.

Around the next corner, they finally saw their goal and a tad rejuvenated,  
Will hurried his pace. He no longer clung to Hannibal, but his fist still  
held the other man's sleeve in its grip. The doctor smiled amused at the  
unconscious gesture.

As they arrived in front of the cottage, Will stopped in his tracks and  
let got of the cloth in his hand. The young man rubbed his face as if to  
wake himself up and turned slowly to the man beside him who closely  
watched his every move.

"Would you like to come inside?" The soft question was almost inaudible.  
But Hannibal had heard it and felt another surge of pride of Will's  
courage. He softened his features to a kind and patient smile.

"I would like that very much, Will."

_"A friend in need's a friend indeed  
A friend who bleeds is better."_


	9. Every Me And Every You

_"Carve your name into my arm  
Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed"_

"I would like that very much, Will." With these words Will knew that his  
fate was sealed and it was not on him to decide what was to happen. He had  
been confused about his feelings, thinking up all kinds of scenarios of  
possible future outcomes but as they had drawn closer to his home, he  
realized that it was not his decision to make anymore.

The ease with which the older man had directed him through small alleys  
and back streets, that after years of living here had been unknown to  
Will, opened his eyes and made him face the truth. There was no way he  
would be able to keep the other from getting what he wanted, even if Will  
wanted to do so.

Unable to move, he scanned the familiar face in front of him, noticing  
lines, wrinkles and shadows that had been invisible to him before. It was  
not a beautiful face, but it had its intriguing features. Most of all the  
unnatural maroon eyes captured Will's attention. Hannibal was able to  
crush the strongest of men with a simple gaze unlike any other person Will  
have ever made the acquaintance.

And strong was something Will had never been. He had always depended on  
others, needing the support to build up his life.

But these peculiar eyes were not the only fascinating feature of this  
face, of this person. Even though the older man was not particularly tall  
or muscular, he radiated strength and authority. It was surprising for  
Will to realize that he could see himself finding comfort in Hannibal. He  
knew that if the other's interest in him was really genuine, Will would  
find himself with a powerful protector.

While Will had been studying the man in front of him and his current  
situation, Hannibal had stepped up to him. The feeling of a warm and soft  
hand on his face, cupping it, broke his concentration. He inhaled deeply  
and found the salty and slightly dusty smell of the sand on the beach  
still clinging to the fingers that tentatively curled in Will's hair.

He swallowed tightly but wrestled his anxiousness down. He was tired of  
always being afraid. He would not break down or start to rave or any other  
foolish thing like that. More to prove to himself that he was no coward  
than to make a statement, Will reached up to Hannibal's hand and took it  
into his. As he turned back to his house, this time it was Will leading  
the other up to the porch and to the front door.

As he was fishing his keys out of his pocket he was able to feel the  
person behind him waiting to be let in. It was strange that he did not  
feel threatened, presenting his back like this to Hannibal. Apparently he  
was starting to trust the other again.

Sliding the keys into the lock, Will opened the door and stepped to the  
side to let the older man pass. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath  
and made to follow Hannibal into the house. He felt a spark of anxiousness  
in him, but the strongest feeling coursing through at this very moment was  
curiosity. He had to smile when suddenly remembering a song he had heard  
on the radio not too long. Something about curiosity killing the singer  
after already having taken care of the cat. Now who was the cat here?

After the front door was closed and once more kept the tropical  
temperature on the other side, he once more took the time to take a closer  
look at Hannibal, who was watching him back. If somebody had told him in  
the past that he would consider what he was considering now, he would not  
have believed it. Most probably he would have had a nervous breakdown.  
Nothing new there, now was it ? Sometimes in the closer past he would most  
likely have gotten drunk, but that was nothing out of the ordinary either;  
so all things considered he should have taken the recent development in  
stride. Or should he?

Will leaned back against the door behind him. The movement had apparently  
been some signal for the older man to approach with caution.  
Halfway, he stopped and held out a hand to Will. An offer, a question or  
command. There were many possibilities, but Will chose to ignore what ever  
implication there was and stepped closer to Hannibal. He did not take the  
hand stretched out to him but he slowly traced the veins he could see  
through the soft skin of the wrist.

Another step closer and he could smell the sweat of Hannibal's body and  
the underlying scent of some expensive eau de perfume. His fingers crawled  
up from to the crook of the outstretched arm. There were so many  
vulnerable spots on a human's body. Vulnerable because the skin was softer  
there. Vulnerable because it left the person at the other's mercy. But if  
the touches at these places were applied with no intention of harm, these  
spots could be something else entirely.

The soft rustle of clothes made him look up and he looked directly up into  
those maroon eyes.

"Almost crimson." His voice, although breathless, sounded loud in the  
silence between them.

"No, they are not." Hannibal bent slightly closer to Will and his  
eyes seemed to hypnotize the younger man. "There is too much brown in them  
to be crimson."

As Hannibal leaned in to more of Will's space, he slowly  
neared the other's face. It was obvious what the reasoning behind this  
move was, but just as the doctor pressed his lips against Will's the image  
of the hospital nurse Hannibal had attacked during his first year of  
imprisonment popped up in the blonde's mind and Will tensed up. He could  
feel every muscle in his body contract. His lungs pressed all the air out  
with a wounded moan.

The sudden stop of muscle activity also stopped his lungs from filling and  
providing his body with the much needed oxygen. The burgeoning panic that  
he had felt started to fully break out now.

His feet gave out and his knees buckled, which resulted in a rather  
ungraceful descent to the entrance floor, leaving him sitting on his legs.  
Will's eyes teared up and he reflexively tried to reach for help, grasping  
the cloth of Hannibal's trousers. His fingers curled into the soft  
material and he tugged at the garment as if to pull Hannibal down to him.  
His other hand had reached shaking to his own chest. As hot tears made  
their path down his cheeks, he screamed in his head for help.

In all his panicking he hadn't noticed Hannibal move but suddenly there  
was a hand resting on his neck and a thumb stroked softly over his skin.  
Another hand reached out for him and gently pushed him on his back.

"Hush, Will, you have to calm down. Lie back and try to relax. You need to  
calm down." As the blonde tried to curl up, Hannibal forced him to lie  
straight on his back. "I can help you but you have to co-operate Will."

Although his panic had nothing to do with Lecter or any haunting visions  
from the past, the simple command of lying on his back was difficult to  
obey. Everything in him cried to curl up and hold himself close. But the  
strong grip with which the older man had him pinned into position brooked  
no disobedience and when the tension started to leave Will's body,  
Hannibal lifted his legs and put them on his knees.

As he started to softly rub Will's stomach, he fixed his eyes on the  
other's face and watched the display of emotions on it. "There we have  
that fear again, Will. You really have to learn how to deal with that. No  
amount of alcohol will ever be able to help you control it but I can."

Will could feel his panic dissipate and he realized that he was able to  
breathe again. He took a deep stuttering breath and started to shiver. His  
whole body felt drained from this sudden panic attack and he was not sure  
if he would be able to get up from the floor anytime soon.

But Hannibal wouldn't let him lie on the floor longer than was strictly  
necessary and so he found himself being dragged up on his wobbly feet. A  
strong arm was wrapped around his waist and Will was guided to the stairs  
that led to the upper floor and to his bed. Slowly, but constantly, they  
made their way up and neared Will's final destination for this noon.

"Come on, Will, you have done splendidly so far. Just a little bit  
further." The reassuring words and the soft tone of the voice were  
contrary to the strong grip and the decided directions that were given,  
but in their own way they were equally welcome to Will. He felt oddly safe  
and he wished that he had had somebody at his side in the past when he had  
been even more vulnerable.

As they reached the first floor of the cottage, his feet gave out and he  
had to sit down on the floor to rest for a bit. Surprisingly, Hannibal did  
not force him up to continue their walk but he did not squat down next to  
him either. What he did do though was to card his fingers through Will's  
hair and massage his scalp lightly.

"Get up, Will." There was a softness to the voice but it was clear that  
this directive was to be obeyed. Again with some help from the older man,  
he made it up on his feet and the walk to the bedroom was resumed faster  
than the slow climb up the stairs. Once the bed was in front of him, Will  
took the last two steps on his own, collapsing onto the soft mattress soon  
after.

Vaguely his brain recognized hands brushing his hair from his face and  
divesting him from his shoes and his clothes, but he was already too close  
to sleep to react to any of the actions. And then Morpheus' arms wrapped  
themselves fully around him and he was lost to the waking world.

_"I serve my head up on a plate  
It's only comfort, calling late"_

There were sounds of movement and activity in the kitchen that made it up  
the stairs and into the bedroom as Will slowly regained consciousness. The  
lack of strength that had made it so difficult to get to the bed had  
passed, but there was a strange numbness to his limbs and his first  
thought was that Lecter had drugged him to keep him docile. An attempt to  
move revealed though that nothing of the like was true and, after  
stretching his body, he carefully untangled himself from the sheets that  
had been wrapped around his naked body.

The windows of the room were open but the curtains had been drawn and they  
moved in the slight breeze that wafted into the bedroom, preventing the  
air to get stale and heavy.

He stretched his arms above his head and craned his neck to release the  
last bit of tension from his muscles. Will was curious about what was  
happening in the room downstairs, but the confinement of his sheets had  
made him sweat and he wanted to clean himself before facing Hannibal  
again.

The lukewarm spray of water from the shower felt refreshing and made him  
sigh with contentment. It was something of a mystery to him why he had  
never appreciated the simple act of taking a shower properly in the past.  
Covering his body with the fragrant suds of his coconut shower lotion he  
massaged the most aching muscles. Stepping back under the water pouring  
down on him, he rinsed the lotion down and switched the shower off.

Squinting his eyes to avoid any water running into them, Will stepped out  
of the shower cubicle and grabbed the nearest towel, which was  
unfortunately no bath towel. With a frustrated sigh he bent his head and  
started to towel his hair dry. Rivulets of water made their way down his  
body and started to puddle on the tiled bathroom floor. Once he was sure  
his hair was dry enough, he used the wet towel to rub his body and limbs  
down. The effect was not really the desired one, since the towel was too  
wet to fully dry his skin, but it was enough to ensure that after a few  
seconds the soft breeze in the bedroom would dry Will fully.

Dropping the wet cloth into the basket of dirty clothes next to the door,  
he strode into the bedroom and walked over to the clothes cupboard. There  
was the smell of fresh cut herbs and the sound of chopping to be heard  
downstairs. Inhaling the delicious smell that spread through the cottage,  
he took linen trousers out of his cupboard. They were of a rusty red and  
oddly reminded him of Hannibal's eyes.

Forgoing any underwear, Will stepped into the pants and tugged them up his  
legs. They didn't have any zippers or buttons but drawstrings that he used  
to tie the trousers up. He liked the feeling of the cloth against his  
skin. He was always careful when buying new clothes, because his  
preference to wear no underwear made him pay particular attention to the  
roughness of the clothes' fabric.

In passing he grabbed a slightly rumpled shirt from the basket with the  
unlaundered clothes and pulled it over his head. The momentary blindness  
didn't slow him down though as he headed for the stairs. He brushed the  
soft material of the sleeveless shirt down over his chest and padded  
barefoot down to the ground floor.

He noticed that the sliding door that lead out to the terrace and the  
garden behind it was open. From the entrance he could see that the table  
on the terrace was set and that the chairs were covered with their  
padding.

Just as Will was about to turn right into the kitchen, two strong arms  
wrapped around his waist and Hannibal's hands settled on his stomach, his  
thumbs lightly stroking Will through the material of the shirt. This  
gesture lead to a strange fluttery feeling in Will's stomach, but  
fortunately this feeling was more of a nervous than a fearful nature.

"Did you rest well, Will?" Hannibal's dulcet voice was very close to his  
ear and it was a tremendous sign of Will's composure and burgeoning trust  
that he didn't even so much as flinch. "I hope that your sleep made you  
hungry; I took the liberty to commandeer your kitchen and prepared an  
afternoon lunch for the two of us."

Deciding to take his first step in this new future of theirs, Will turned  
in Hannibal's embrace and leaned against the other's frame. He scanned the  
face of his past tormentor until he came to lock eyes with Hannibal. There  
had rarely been any kind of emotion in these maroon eyes, but now they  
seemed to be softer and there was a determined glint in them.

"I slept well, thank you." Will was unsure what to do. If this was Molly  
he would give her a quick kiss and from there it would develop to even  
deeper kisses--- and if Josh was not around it would become a full fledged  
make out session. But this was not Molly. This was a man. This was  
Hannibal Lecter. Did somebody like him do make out sessions?

"You know that the shy Mr. Dolarhyde wrote to me during my imprisonment at  
the Baltimore State Hospital." Will nodded weakly at that. His body had  
started to tense again. "He wrote in this note about you as well. You must  
know this, Will, since dear Dr. Chilton alarmed Crawford and his whole  
entourage about it. Do you agree with Dolarhyde's assessment about you?"

Will did not want to think back on this time. He did not want to remember  
the past and most of all did not want to remember his past with Lecter  
while being wrapped in his arms. He saw that Hannibal watched him  
curiously. "He said that I was odd-looking, purposeful looking he  
described it. I don't know about that. I don't see that when looking in  
the mirror."

"No, you wouldn't. I don't believe that you would look into a mirror at  
all these days. Am I right, Will." One of the hands that had been resting  
so far on the small of his back reached to the scar on his face and traced  
it slowly. "This is too much of a reminder for you, isn't it?"

Will tried to turn his head away from the hand on his face but the second  
hand had gripped the other side of his face and he was fixed into place.  
With some trepidation, he glanced up to Hannibal's eyes once more. There  
it was again, that softness to the eyes that he had only recently noticed.  
The older man leaned in and brushed his lips over Will's. At the soft  
indrawn breath, Hannibal broke the contact between their lips but pressed  
them together again, with more strength this time.

It was not the open-mouthed kiss that was preferred by lovers, but then  
again that would have been not appropriate at this time. Hannibal fixed  
him with an interested stare and his thumbs caressed Will's face.

"Dolarhyde also wrote in his letter that he thought you not to be  
handsome. I have to say that I do not agree with his assessment. You are  
very good-looking, Will. You also have a beautiful mind; one that needs to  
be taken care of properly. This abuse of your body and your brain needs to  
stop. I will see to it that you will become what you are destined to be."

Once more his lips descended on Will's and this time, Will reacted. He  
tentatively reached up and took hold of the other man's shirt, pulling him  
closer. This action awarded him with a content lick against his lips. His  
face was freed from the grasp it had been in, as the two hands fell onto  
his buttocks and he was pressed closer against the hard body of Hannibal.

All this time the maroon eyes had never left his own and their color  
deepened until Will was convinced that they had a tint of crimson in them.  
The intense gaze made him shiver and he let go of the shirt to reach up  
and wrap his arms around Hannibal's neck. He felt excitement starting to  
spread through his body. It was an exhilarating feeling that he had almost  
forgotten about.

The kiss didn't deepen though, and after a short squeeze to Will's bottom,  
the two parted. The older man brushed the blonde's bangs from his face and  
smiled softly at the confusion and underlying longing he saw clearly  
reflected in the bright blue eyes.

"I still have a meal to finish. You can help if you want to, Will."

The shy smile that played over Will's lips conveyed his acceptance and he  
followed Hannibal into the kitchen to help with preparing their meal.

_"Every Me and Every You"_


	10. Black-Eyed

_"I was never faithful  
And I was never one to trust"_

Hannibal used the time Will spent asleep to think about that noon and what  
it heralded for the future he had planned. Finding the other on the beach  
had been an accident. After having a cup of coffee at Will's favorite  
café, he had decided to take a stroll to the beach. The market had been  
mostly empty still, so he had had to wait some more before he would be  
able to make the needed purchases.

On his way back from the end of the promenade, he had noticed the familiar  
figure of Will trudging through the sandy dunes. It had surprised him to  
find the younger man here at this particular time of day. His curiosity  
had changed to concern though as he had seen the blonde curling up in the  
sand. Something was very wrong.

After taking care of Will, he had guided him back to his cottage. He had  
been so proud of Will's courage as the blonde invited him into his home.  
And standing opposite Hannibal, being confronted with what was going to  
happen in the future, Will had finally had the panic attack Hannibal had  
been waiting for. It had taken too long. Will should have sooner realized  
what was going on – he had a sharp mind after all. Had had a sharp mind,  
might have been the more appropriate phrasing, though. All the alcohol and  
the depression had started to slowly deterioriate this magnificent mind.  
Hannibal had to stop this destructive process and start with  
reconstructing what had suffered for so many years.

Knowing the other to be asleep upstairs, he left the cottage to finally  
make his purchases. The sun was high up in the sky and made him wish to  
stay in a country with a less demanding climate. He took a cotton  
handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped over his face. He would see if he  
would be able to convince his new companion to move to a different  
location.

Once more he strolled down the back streets to the market and found the  
place to be full of people. The life and movement reminded him of open  
piazzas filled with tourists. With an amused smile he made his way through  
the masses to the stands he had been to in the morning. Choosing  
carefully, he bought two sea bass and then got the vegetables he needed.  
Carrying his two bags carefully through the sea of people, he made for the  
small delicatessen he had found during one of his reconnaissance walks  
through Will's territory.

After finalizing his shopping he walked back to the cottage and its  
resting inhabitant. He was determined to get to the next stage of their  
relationship now that Will had finally come to his senses and was able to  
fully realize what was going on around him. This strange numbness that had  
kept the former FBI profiler from living in the here and now was slowly  
dissipating and now was the time to introduce Will to his new life and his  
position in Hannibal's.

Arriving back at the cottage, Hannibal was grateful that the interior was  
much cooler due to the lowered blinds, curtains and the natural air  
condition of open windows and doors.

Putting the bags with his purchases from the delicatessen and the  
vegetables on the counter, Hannibal took care of the fish to prevent any  
damage to it. He gutted and cleaned it and then filleted it, disposing of  
the parts that he did not need. Once this part was finished, he put the  
filets into the fridge and started with cutting the vegetables he needed.

All the while his thoughts kept returning the blonde and the possible  
future for the two of them. In some way, Hannibal had not liked the  
direction his thoughts had taken after his first days of watching the  
younger man. He had believed himself above such things as attraction and  
love. There had never been a use for it in his past; such constricting  
emotions would have hindered him in his work. Both the professional work  
as a psychiatrist and the work that he considered to be his private  
pleasure.

But after carefully studying the  
blonde and thinking back on their past dealings, he had to admit that  
there had always been a connection between them. Will was an intriguing  
person. The only one who never noticed his appeal was Will himself. There  
had been the scientific intrigue from Dr. Alan Bloom. There had been the  
professional intrigue from Jack Crawford. There had been the emotional  
intrigue from Molly. It didn't matter where and in what situation, the  
former FBI profiler never did things halfway, he always gave his all. This  
was a personal trait that often seduced others to take advantage of him.

He couldn't really say what it was exactly that intrigued him about Will  
Graham, but the truth was that felt an odd closeness to the other. In the  
past he had thought that to be because of their talks and his playing with  
Will's mind. After his imprisonment, he had started to think about their  
past interactions and his focus on their shared past had lead to people  
like Dr. Frederick Chilton to talk about an unhealthy obsession. He could  
clearly remember presenting his findings to Will as the blonde visited him  
in Baltimore. He had told the younger man that their closeness resulted  
from their similarity. These days though Hannibal was sure that there had  
probably been an attraction from the beginning that had been overseen in  
the past because of certain circumstances and different priorities, but he  
knew now that Will was probably the only person that he would ever be able to  
love. Oh, he had loved Clarice of course, but the love for the young woman  
had been of a filial nature and the need to protect her from the world  
that seemed too cruel for her. The love, the emotion he had for Will was  
of a romantic nature.

His progress in the meal preparations was not slowed down by setting the  
table on the terrace outside, since the fish was already in the bags and  
cooking slowly in the pot. He noticed with satisfaction that the  
temperature had fallen and that a small breeze made it possible to stay  
outside without getting drenched in sweat.

Just as he was cutting the herbs for the cream sauce he heard movement  
from upstairs and soon thereafter the unmistakable sound of the shower. He  
smirked as he pictured Will naked under the shower. He would be lying if  
he said that he was not curious about the physical side of their budding  
relationship. If Will only put half as much effort into it that he  
usually put into everything else in his life, it would be more than  
rewarding for Hannibal indeed.

As the sound of the water upstairs stopped, he put the knife aside and  
listened closely to the noises from the bedroom. Soon there was the soft  
padding of bare feet down the wooden stairs. He silently walked to the  
door of the kitchen and felt a slight rush of excitement at the sight of  
the blonde. His hair was in disarray from his towel drying and made it him  
look very young. The red pants he was wearing were form fitting around his  
hips and back but fell loosely from there. The creamy white color of the  
sleeveless shirt he was wearing was probably called magnolia.

The sparkling blue eyes scanned the terrace, taking in Hannibal's work.  
Soundlessly he stepped up to Will and wrapped his arms around him. The  
reaction to this was more rewarding than he had expected and he had to  
stop soon thereafter to ensure that they weren't proceeding too quickly.  
Yes, Will was ready for what was to come.

Hannibal handed the bag from the delicatessen to Will and instructed him  
on how to cook the tagliatelle properly. Leaving the blonde to his work,  
Hannibal finished cutting the herbs he needed and added them to the cream  
sauce in the small pot. He stirred them together and then let them simmer.

He leaned back against the counter and watched the other starting to clean  
away the small mess Hannibal had created. With precise and effective  
movements the younger man swiped the working space clean and stacked the  
dirty dishes and tools into the dishwasher.

Taking the knife Hannibal had put aside he looked up from his work. "Do  
you still need this?"

"Leave it Will, I need to open the bags later with it. You can leave the  
cutting board here as well." Without any further thought to the knife Will  
lay it down again and continued cleaning. It was amazing how trusting the  
younger man was. He never even spared a second glance on the dangerous  
kitchen equipment.

Hannibal was relieved to see that the fragility that had him fear for the  
other's mental stability at the beach was nowhere to be seen. This time  
when Will would ask him about them, he would get the answer he needed.

The smell of the sauce was getting stronger and Hannibal checked the  
tagliatelle to see if they were finished yet. Cutting a long string in two  
with his fingernail he determined that there were two more minutes  
necessary for them to be al dente and so he checked on his fish. The water  
had condensed and the bags were full of air now. He could see the filets  
resting on the vegetables and the herbs that they were enclosed with.

Will moved to his side and turned the plate with the noodles off. Opening  
one of the kitchen cupboards, he took a sieve out and put it into the  
sink. Making sure that the water from the tab was hot he grabbed a kitchen  
towel and carefully carried the pot of hot water and noodles to the sink.  
He poured them in to the sieve and washed them with hot water.

Hannibal moved the pot with the sauce from the oven and took the bags with  
the fish filets out of the pot they had been cooking in. Handing two  
plates he had pre-heated to keep the food warm to Will, they were heaped  
with tagliatelle. He added the sauce to the noodles and put the two plates  
next to the cutting board. He opened the first bag and the strong scent of  
herbs filled the kitchen. Carefully he put the filet inside on the first  
plate and added the vegetables the fish had been stewing with to the plate  
as well. Taking a spoon Will was offering, he poured the juices from the  
bag over the fish filet.

He repeated it with the second bag and discarded the empty bags once he  
was finished. Hannibal handed one plate to Will and opened the fridge to  
take a bottle of a fine white wine he had purchased together with the  
tagliatelle. He then followed Will outside on the terrace.

_"I was never grateful  
That's why I spent my days alone"_

Pouring them a glass of the wine, Hannibal contently watched Will smile at  
the food in front of him. It was good to know that Will appreciated the  
effort made. Hannibal never cooked because he wanted to be complimented.  
He cooked for his own enjoyment and pleasure, but appreciation was always  
welcome.

"Please, start eating, Will."

Conversation was non-existent during their meal, but then again they were  
far too absorbed in enjoying the delicious food. There was the sound of  
some radio playing somewhere, broadcasting news from the local areas as  
well as the rest of the world. Will set his cutlery aside and excused  
himself. Getting up, the blonde went back into the cottage

Soon after his disappearance, smooth jazz music wafted out onto the  
terrace and brought a smiling Will with it. Hannibal returned the smile  
and the two of them continued eating their food. This playful mood the  
other was in reminded him of the evenings spent profiling during the first  
period of their past together. The younger man had always been so absorbed  
in his work that Hannibal from time to time had to force him to take a  
break and sit back to enjoy a good discussion and on rare occasions he  
even had agreed to go to a concert with him. The latter had occurred only  
once but it had been a pleasant experience.

"You are very content with your situation, Will. You are very accepting.  
How is it that you changed your opinion and attitude so quickly?" The  
older man had set his cutlery down and waited for the other's reply.

At first it seemed as if the blonde hadn't heard the question since he  
continued eating but then he suddenly his eyes swiveled up to Hannibal's  
and there was a strange glint to them. Hannibal recognized this glint  
almost at once. He had seen it often enough in the mirror after all. This  
expression faded though as the younger man studied his face for a few  
seconds.

"I did not change myself or my attitude and the acceptance of my situation  
is speeded with the need of security. If I continued to fear you and wait  
for an attack by you, I would soon go insane. I am not really good at  
dealing with fear as you most probably noticed."

"Do you believe I will hurt you?" Hannibal was curious about how honest  
Will was willing to be to himself and to Hannibal.

"No, you don't want me to feel any pain, if I remember correctly, but then  
again every game must have its ending and so does this one."

He was surprised to be given his own explanations from so long ago. Was it  
really what Will believed or was it only some kind of defense?

"I am really curious though what your own thoughts about us are, Will. Be  
a darling and share your opinion with me."

"What do you want me to say Hannibal?" The toneless ness of the other's  
voice was in stark contrast to the full and husky voice of the jazz singer  
and gave the blonde a transparent quality.

"I want you to be honest."

"There was a time when you asked me very similar questions with the intent  
of healing me from my mental break down I had after the Hobbs case. Back  
then I knew exactly what I thought about my life and the people in it. I  
considered you a friend back then. I was wrong back then. I paid a high  
price for this misconception." Will broke the eye contact with Hannibal  
and glanced at the glass front behind the other man.

"After that I had my opinion on what and who you are. About the who I was  
convinced that you were a monster. About the what I knew you were my  
darkest fear and my nightmare. You proved me wrong again when you sent  
Dolarhyde after me. By no means a nightmare, no, you proofed to be real  
enough to be not considered dreamlike. In my time after Molly's departure  
you became one of my unwanted and feared memories. It may interest you  
that you were my greatest fear in this time. My thoughts returned to you  
all the time to torment me with my failings."

There was a slight pause before he continued: "If you want an assessment  
of who you are now, I can not give you that yet. I find that I am willing  
to trust you even if it might result in my death. I have to trust you."

"Might or will result in your death Will?"

"Might or will, what does it matter?" The voice had dropped to a mere  
whisper.

"It does not matter to me but it matters a great deal to you, doesn't it.  
I want to you to believe that no harm will befall you from me but I have  
not yet found a way to show you." Hannibal tilted his head to the side as  
he studied the younger man opposite him.

"Will, I spent the time after my dealings with Mason Verger in Rio de  
Janeiro together with ex-FBI agent Clarice Starling. I never hurt her and  
the unfortunate end of our companionship had nothing to do with me but  
with her weak mind. I know that you are much stronger than her and I also  
know that if you are willing to give me the benefit of a doubt we can have  
a glorious future ahead of us."

There was no reaction and he reached over the table to stroke the scarred  
side of the blonde's face.

"Are you willing to do this much for me?"

"Please."

He longed to sit next to Will and take him in his arms, but the younger  
man had to make this decision on his own.

"Please, Will?"

"Please, don't play with me." As the blue eyes were raised, he could see  
the tears gathering in them. Brushing with his thumb over the corner of  
one eye, he could feel the wetness of the salty liquid on it.

"I do not play with you, Will, I meant what I said and what I offered."  
And I meant even more than you know, Will. Hannibal got up from his chair  
and walked around the table and stood next to Will's chair. Carefully he  
tugged the other one up from the sitting position he was in. Wrapping his  
arms around the shivering form of Will Graham he rubbed tenderly over the  
blonde's back. "Trust me, Will."

The whimper was almost toneless but he heard it none the less. Slowly he  
navigated them through the sliding door into the cottage, to the couch in  
the living room. As they reached their destination he coaxed Will into  
lying down but when he tried to get up, the strong grip onto his wrist  
made him stay kneeled down next to the other.

"Stay."

Hearing the implication in this one word uttered, the older man made the  
blonde scoot over on the couch and Hannibal laid down on his side facing  
the younger man. He once more wrapped his arms around Will and continued  
the soothing motions of the backrub.

"Thank you." The gratitude on these two words was palpable. The former FBI  
profiler pressed himself against the warm body of Hannibal and buried his  
face in a shoulder, inhaling the older man's scent deeply.

After a couple of minutes Hannibal could feel Will's breathing even out  
and soon thereafter he fell asleep, leaving Hannibal to his own thoughts  
as he continued to hold the blonde close.

_"I'm forever black-eyed  
A product of a broken home"_


	11. Nancy Boy

_"And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal  
Got the muse in my head she's universal"_

> _It was dark outside and the tropical storm bombarded the glass of the windows and the sliding door with its liquid ammunition. The water was no longer running down the flat surface in rivulets but in rivers that soaked the wooden terrace. The wet wood shimmered dangerously and puddles were starting to form on the oversaturated boards. _
> 
> A flash tore through the charcoal sky and highlighted the rain clouds with a dark purple that was swal-lowed at once by the darkness once the flash disappeared. The short source of light made the water on the glass and on the floorboards sparkle and lent temporary light to the interior of the room.
> 
> Will stood at the sliding door and watched the storm releasing its power and shaking the palm tries in its fierce grip. A thunder so loud and powerful it made the windowpanes rattle accompanied the last flash and Will counted the seconds between the next flash and thunder under his breath.
> 
> 4, 5, 6, …
> 
> The bright light had been gone for six seconds before a loud boom filled the night and warned every-one about the dangers outside. This display of primitive power and untamed wildness sent shivers down Will's spine and he pressed his hands against the cold surface of the glass sliding doors. His breath condensed on the glass and made the outside look foggy and unclear.
> 
> There was, in the momentary silence after the last thunder, the sound of movement behind him. Too fascinated and hypnotized by the happenings outside, he ignored any noise from inside the house. Pressing closer against the glass he could almost feel the wetness of the water downpour. Excited he held his breath and pressed closer still.
> 
> Suddenly a hand reached out to him. He couldn't see it and he did not feel it but he knew it was there, trying to get a hold of him as he fell. There was once more the cold but this time it was no glass that sent freezing chills into his body, but icy water that enclosed him. Something was pulling him down into the darkness below him; the light from the surface above grew dimmer. He thought he was able to make out a shadow on the surface though, but he was not entirely sure.
> 
> A light headedness set in as the oxygen in his lungs got less and less. For a brief moment he consid-ered the possibility to panic but the heaviness that crept into his limbs and the drowsiness in his brain calmed him almost immediately. He opened his mouth to tell the shape on the surface to stop trying to reach him but salty water filled his mouth and then his lungs.

 

A loud boom tore through the silence of the room and shook Will out of his sleep. The sound of water hitting against glass was accompanied by the howling wind outside. Consciousness was not much different from the world of dreams apparently. The air inside the room had cooled down from the change in temperature outside but it still it was warm enough to slightly fog the windows.

The slow movement of his pillow warned Will that he was not alone. His waking brain noticed slowly that his mattress as well as his headrest was harder than was to be expected in a bed and there was definitely movement from beneath him.

It took the time of another flash/thunder cycle before Will finally awakened fully and started to recall why his sleeping conditions differed from his usual ones. He wondered if Hannibal was asleep as well but the hand that came to rest on his back and started to slowly stroke him made clear that the older man was awake as well. The blonde felt himself relax from the soothing touches. His body got heavier and it seemed to him that he was starting to melt and mold himself around Hannibal's body.

Another hand came to rest on his back but this one was much bolder than the first one as it traced Will's spine to the waistband of his pants. The soft material of the light shirt was lifted a bit and a strong hand slipped between cloth and skin. The touch felt heavier on the skin of his back but the tender contact had a calming effect on the former FBI profiler.

Will rubbed his cheek against the linen covered shoulder under him and started to feel lightheaded. It did not matter that the person caressing him had touched him with the intent to kill in the past; the only thing that mattered right now was the physical closeness to the other and the promise of some-thing he wanted almost too much.

There was another rolling of thunder but this one was distant, indicating that the force of nature was moving on and leaving Port of Spain behind. The rain was still drenching everything in water but it was slowly starting to lose most of its fierceness.

Determination was what prompted Will to make his next move and he tentatively ran his hands up Hannibal's sides. He first gripped the white shirt but then his fingers slowly climbed up and crawled over the older man's chest to his throat. All the time he continued to press his face into Hannibal's shoulder and inhaled the other's scent.

Hannibal smelled of the herbs the fish had been seasoned with. Underneath there were the remnants of expensive eau de perfume. It had an elegant and graceful scent. Mingling with these smells was the slight scent of sweat. Will had to admit that it was a very alluring scent and he realized that he was starting to get drunk on it.

The hand that had been stroking his back so far was now trailing down to Will's buttocks and joined the other hand under the shirt. The hands came to a rest and only the thumbs drew lazy circles over the suntanned skin. The gesture had a strange effect on Will. Heat started to spread through his body, it radiated from his lower belly and made him shiver slightly. It was like his skin had suddenly become over-sensitized.

The blonde's lips parted slightly as the breath escaped in soft toneless pants. Will felt the urge to start to wriggle on top of the older man but he refused to behave so shamelessly. His hands that had been on their way to Hannibal's face had stopped their way up and retreated back down to the other's shoulders where they gripped the clothed flesh and held on tight.

Suddenly there was movement underneath him and Hannibal shifted them until Will was lying on his back on the couch. His grip on the shoulders which were now above him did not lessen. The maneu-ver had the effect that Hannibal's body was now resting heavily on top of him, while his hands were trapped under Will.

"Let go, Will."

_ "Alcoholic kind of Mood,  
Lose my Clothes, lose my Lube"_

The words were no command but they had the same effect. Obediently the blonde released the now wrinkled shirt and his hands dropped to his side.

Hannibal took advantage of his regained freedom of movement and he pulled his hands out from un-derneath the younger man. He pushed his torso up to take a better look at the man under him. Will blinked a couple of times to get the sleep out of his eyes and stared right back.

The lack of proper light made it hard to see details but even though the conditions were not the best, the other's proximity made sure that Will could make out most of Hannibal's face. The maroon eyes that had seemed so crimson to him before where now pitch-black in the shadows, only some light spots reflecting on the iris. The younger man reached up to caress the face above him.

He was surprised about his own behavior. It would have been more like him if he would take advan-tage of the situation and if he would try to get away from Hannibal. But Will discarded that thought at once. It was as appealing as doing 'the right' thing by taking the piece of paper Alan Bloom had left and giving the FBI a call. It was so much like his past self that he despised it. He had been so trusting back then. He had truly believed that if he always did the right thing, he would lead a happy life.

The thought about him and happiness lured a snort out of him and he smiled wryly up at the face above him. It said a lot about his sheltered childhood and adolescence if he really had believed back then that things would work this way. In the end it had only lead to him tearing himself into pieces to make sure that everyone got what they wanted. The greediest of all of them had been the late Agent Crawford. It was true that Jack had been a friend of sorts but if it came down to it there was nothing that Jack had done for Will without making him pay for it. And the price had always been a high one.

Will's fingers mapped the other's face. What would he give to be able to trust again, to feel intimacy with another person? It would be glorious to just let go for once in his life.

His train of thought was interrupted as Hannibal lowered himself. The older man's face was suddenly in Will's face, the other blocking out everything else from his sight. There was only Hannibal. There was his scent surrounding him, his body pressing him into the couch and the dark eyes fixing him as if pinning him into place with their stare.

"What is going on in that head of yours, Will? Sometimes it is like surfing channels on television. You never linger long enough at a place to truly grasp what it is all about." The voice was so close that Will was convinced he could feel it vibrate in his body.

"There is nothing interesting enough to make a stay worthwhile."

"Now, this is something I cannot believe. Your mind is fascinating and it is so unlike any other mind I have ever come across. I told you once that we are very much alike but still there is a profound dif-ference between the two of us, Will. Unlike you I am not trying to suffocate myself by killing off my mind."

"Easy for you to say, you were always comfortable with thinking like that." Will did not really want to discuss this topic now. He had felt so good only moments before Hannibal had once more started to analyze him.

"Like what, Will? Like people like us? If you would allow your mind some freedom, you would soon understand what I have been telling you for so long. What do you think it would be like to be like everyone else? It would be like being colorblind. Even if you do not want to admit it, you are used to thinking our way and you would find life to be unbearable if half of your senses were stripped away."

Will had stilled all of his movements and for a brief second he thought that he had stopped breathing as well. The older man's words made him ponder what had been said on this particular topic so far. He recalled talks with past therapists and explanations by experts that assured him that he was just confused and under shock from traumatic events in his past and that he would be normal again in no time. If people had not talked about him like he was ill, they had always tended to treat him like some weird specimen that had to be watched and closely monitored. The only persons who had treated him differently had been Jack Crawford and Molly. Both of them had dealed with it in their own way.

"Then set me free."

How Will had dreaded this moment in the past. He had always been afraid that giving up the tight reign he had on his mind would lead to disaster. He was not sure if he was capable of controlling his mind if it was let lose and he had never believed to find anyone who was strong enough to take con-trol should he fail. But here he was, doing the unthinkable and giving his whole self to Hannibal, put-ting himself totally at the other man's mercy.

The blond knew that there had been offers of this kind from the doctor in the past. True enough, they had not had the sensual flavor of what was offered to him now but the older man had tried to get a hold on Will for a long time. The intention behind it might have been a different one but the other had wanted to possess the blonde's mind none the less.

It had been subtle at times but there had been so many attempts at taking over Will that it was a small miracle that he had been able to resist for such a long time. But Will had to admit that he did not want to resist this time.

At first there was no reaction to his words but then a fire emblazed in Hannibal's eyes at Will's surren-der. They had been gravitating to this moment ever since their good night on the front porch. The predator had finally caught his prey.

"I will not only set you free, Will, I will teach you to fly."

The older man leaned slightly closer, their lips almost touching as he spoke. Will was able to feel the tightly leashed power in the other's frame. It was like a putting the leash on a jaguar and trying to hold him back from his food. There was no chance that Hannibal would be able to restrain himself forever. Least of all since Will's permission had been given.

"And fly you will, like the bird of prey you are."

Will felt whatever tension that had been in his body from the day's duress dissipate. His senses seemed to sharpen as he curiously waited for what was to come. He had no idea how Hannibal in-tended to make true on his word, but it did not really matter. The blonde felt freer than ever before just being promised freedom.

The other laid back down on top of Will, his arms lining the younger man's sides. His fingers traced soft patterns over Will's skin as he determinedly kissed the former FBI profiler. This time the kisses were far less innocent.

_"Comes across all shy and coy,  
Just another Nancy Boy"_


	12. English Summer Rain

_"I'm in the basement, you're in the sky  
I'm in the basement baby, drop on by"_

Will's surrender was the most breath taking thing that he had ever born witness to and he doubted that this sight could be surpassed by anything. Other people looked weak and beaten when giving up and surrendering, but the blonde looked incredibly strong and untamed. It was like freeing a caged beast.

Hannibal knew that the former profiler did not have any experiences with men – in a sexual way. This topic had come up in the past once during the early days of their acquaintance. He doubted that this had changed since then.

Regardless of his inexperience Will took everything that was being offered and gave back as good as he got. There was no shyness or awkwardness in his actions. Determined, he met Hannibal halfway, pouring his everything into the kiss.

The older man had not had any sexual encounters in many years. There had sometimes been the possibility with Clarice Starling but his filial feelings towards the woman had prevented anything from happening. On the whole he had not missed having sexual intercourse. Sex was not the only pleasure to be had. He had compensated by satisfying every other of his needs.

Pressing the compliant body of one Will Graham under him into the couch, he had to re-evaluate his opinion though. There was nothing better than the feel of the hard frame of the blonde trying to mold itself together with Hannibal.

He traced the ribs and the side of the younger man all the while exploring the other's mouth. The skin was softer than was to be expected and it possessed warmth that felt like Will was storing all the sun of the Caribbean inside himself. Hannibal's very own heat reservoir.

It was unmistakable that the blonde was enjoying their interaction. Judging from the growing hardness, Hannibal would not have to worry about any restraint from the younger man's side. The eagerness with which Will responded reminded him very much of the energetic young profiler he had worked with all those years ago.

Although he wanted to fully take the blonde, Hannibal decided to take off the edge before that. Taking the younger man's mental exhaustion earlier this day into consideration, he thought it better to take this step by step and to gradually deepen the intimacy of their intercourse.

Hannibal stroked up Will's sides and pushed his arms up until the other's hands reached over his head. The couch was too short to pin the hands up there but Will reached over the arm rest, holding onto the side of the furniture.

This movement made the younger man break their kiss as he tilted his head back, exposing and presenting his throat to Hannibal. The bright blue eyes that were shining with the longing for something he had not dared to ask for before fluttered closed and Will's breaths turned into excited panting.

The temptation to bite down on the exposed flesh was too big. The skin was of a golden brown color that only fair skinned people possessed when getting sun tanned. There was no equivalent to it anywhere else.

He licked down from Will's chin, tracing to curve of his throat to the other's Adam's apple. Pressing his lips harder against the small elevation, he started to suck on it.

At the same time one of his hands let go of Will's wrists and traveled down to the hem of Will's shirt, pushing it up. Inch by inch more of the heated skin was exposed and the shirt's fabric bunched together just below the younger man's chest. Hannibal's fingers rubbed over the flat stomach. He felt the tensing and twitching of muscles under his strokes.

With the increasing pleasure and desire, Will started to writhe. The closeness to Hannibal's body led to a pleasurable full body rub. He pressed down harder to stop the blonde from moving. Hannibal wanted the other to understand who was in charge. It was not so much that he wanted the younger man to be passive but that he wanted to ingrain in Will's body and mind that the one in charge was Hannibal and not Will.

Minute shivers ran through the blonde's body and his whole frame trembled with need under him. The hand that had held the hands over Will's head gave a last warning squeeze and then joined the hand on the other's stomach.

Once the skin around the Adam's apple was red from all the attention that had been bestowed upon it, Hannibal nibbled his way up to Will's ear.

"You are delicious, Will." His breath ghosted over the shell. But it was the words and not the teasing breath that made the blonde groan. The younger man tried to reach for Hannibal but a hand grabbed hold of the wandering hands and placed them above the head once more. "I will tell you when you are allowed to move. Until then you will obey me and stay like this."

The command was delivered in a soft whisper but there was no need to underline it. Any other person might have forgotten the rules set up at the beginning in the throw of passion but Hannibal knew that he only needed to tell the other once how it would be and there would be no mistake on Will's part after that.

He pushed the shirt up and over Will's head. Somewhere between elbow and wrist the shirt stayed bunched together and out of the way.

Hannibal once more pushed his torso up and took a good look at the man under him. His head was thrown back; sweat started to soak the blond hair. His eyes were glittering through the eyelashes and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. The lips Hannibal had been feasting on before were slightly bruised and swollen. His panting breaths escaped with every shivering heave of his chest.

His throat was red from the sucking and biting. The Adam's apple bobbed with every breath.

As his eyes trailed down from the collar bone to Will's chest, Hannibal could already see the slight sheen of sweat that was starting there. His lowered himself until he was resting on his elbows. He cast one last look on the enraptured face of Will Graham and then leaned down, his lips closing around a nipple.

As erogenous spots go, this one did not seem to be one of Will's favorites. The throat had apparently been more sensitive than the chest. Hannibal was determined though to teach Will how much pleasure this particular body part could bestow upon him.

His fingers trailed up and splayed on the heaving chest as Hannibal lavished the tiny bud with his tongue. He bit down from time to time. Not hard, only hard enough to cause a slight discomfort.

Even though the beginning reactions towards his nipples had not been much, the continuous attention was starting to be effective. Hannibal could feel the erection trapped in the cotton pants harden even further. The heat of the engorged organ was radiating through the thin cloth and wetness started to stain the pants where the pre-come soaked into the fabric.

Increasing the strength of his bites and additional stimulation of the other nipple increased the excitement in the blonde. He was able to feel the tightness that was taking hold of Will's body as he fought to stay still. It felt like the young man was ready to explode.

_"Hold your breath and count to ten,  
Fall apart and start again"_

Hannibal's hands stroked down from the chest to the stomach and from there they slowly tickled down to the hem of Will's pants. For a moment he thought the blonde would lose his control and reach his orgasm but in the last second the younger man had been able to stop his body.

The power his words had over Will sent a rush of excitement through him. Yes, he had been enjoying it so far but he had not allowed himself to get aroused by the foreplay. Hannibal wanted to take care of the other first. There was no need to rush through things after all.

He had to admit though that it was starting to get more and more difficult to ignore the temptation that was one Will Graham spread out under him. The blonde was just too delicious in his surrender and submission to Hannibal.

Slowly he picked at the strings of the rusty red trousers. The knot came undone and, tearing at the strings, he widened the gap at the front of the pants. He reached inside to free the entrapped erection.

The engorged organ was heavy in his hands. His fingers closed around it, shaping a fist that leisurely moved up and down. Stilling every movement, he could feel the throbbing of the blood. It was as if he could feel the other's heart beating in the palm of his hand.

After a last flick of his tongue against the now overly sensitive nipple, Hannibal balanced his body with one arm as his hand on the erection drove Will closer and closer to orgasm.

Hungrily he watched the play of emotions on the younger man's face. There was need and excitement, passion of course and longing. Besides that there was elation and a slight trace of anxiousness. The latter feeling was due to the difficulty the blonde had with staying motionless.

"Will, open your eyes. Look at me." This time the command was harder than the one before but still it was delivered in a very calm and quiet voice.

The reaction to the words was instantaneous. The lids that had been lowered fluttered open, revealing passion hazed eyes that were brightened by the inner heat of Will's body. No precious stone was as bright as the blue that glittered at Hannibal. He had seen these eyes many times in different emotions but never had they been as breathtaking as they were now.

The flushed cheeks were gaining even more color as the young man saw the satisfaction and pride in Hannibal's face. The pink tongue flicked out for a second to lick over suddenly dry lips and the blonde's breathing speeded up.

"Nothing can do you justice, Will. You are an amazing sight." Hannibal sped his hand on Will's cock, alternating between hard pumping and long strokes.

He closely watched the other's reaction to his stimulations. He noticed how squeezing at the bottom of the erection made the blonde's lower lips tremble and how rubbing over the slit at the top made him bite his lip, sucking in breath. It made him hiss like an angry snake.

The clear pre-come was coated over the whole cock by Hannibal's movements. The natural lubrication made the hands slide easier over the heated flesh and gave a soft sheen to it. Under the soft skin he could feel the hardness of the blood-filled organ.

Hannibal decided to try something different and stopped his ministrations. This caused Will to whimper softly. The younger man looked pleadingly at him. It was not his intent to tease or torture the other but Hannibal needed to shift his position to get a better grip on Will.

He moved slightly to the side and reached down again. His hand passed the pulsing erection though and slid between the other's thighs. Spreading them slightly his fingers searched for the area right behind the testicles. He pressed his fingers down and started to rub the spot.

The sudden moan that was provoked by this was loud in the relative silence of the room. Its sound was full of Will's need.

The hand between the blonde's legs cupped he taut testicles and rolled them against each other. From there it wrapped itself once more around the straining cock. The throbbing erection was dark red and twitching in Hannibal's grip. He flicked over the top once more before he settled on a pumping the organ hard.

The younger man panted harshly now, moans spilling from his lips. The clear blue of Will's eyes darkened with the increasing passion. There was a wildness in these orbs that told of the pent up energy in the blonde's body.

Hannibal sped his strokes up. His hand was slippery with Will's pre-come.

He could smell the scent of pheromones that emanated from the body under him. Mixed together with the smell of sweat, pre-come and arousal it created a heavy scent that hung in the room.

Locking eyes with Will, Hannibal said lowly: "Let go, Will. Let yourself go."

One more squeeze at the base of the cock and the younger man tumbled over the edge, coming hard. His come coated Hannibal's hand that continued to pump the organ. Some of the sperm dribbled onto the trembling stomach, creating small beads of white on the tanned skin.

He stroked over the softening erection, to milk the last of the other's come and then let go of it. Holding his hand out to Will he watched as the blonde reached out for it and pulled it towards his lips.

The pink tongue slipped out again. It carefully licked at the come covered fingers and then sucked them into his mouth. The hot tongue wrapped itself around each digit cleaning it of the sperm. After the last finger had been taken care of, Will pulled the hand even closer and licked with broad strokes over the palm, looking like an over-sized cat.

"You did very well." Hannibal shifted once more on top of Will, leaning now once more on both arms, looking down on the blonde under him.

Will spread his thighs to accommodate Hannibal between them. As the older man settled in he caught something on Will's face. There it was again, that glint that had been visible during their conversation on the terrace. But this time it did not disappear again. It stayed there as Will Graham started to glow.

_"Always stays the same, nothing ever changes  
English summer rain seems to last for ages"_


	13. Slave To The Wage

_"All it takes is one decision  
A lot of guts, a little vision to wave"_

Although the temperature in the room was by no means low, Will was so heated up that the difference in temperature sent shivers running through his body. It added a pleasurable ache that stimulated his overloaded nerves.

The haze of his aftermath was starting to settle in but Will fought the laxness to focus on Hannibal. Right at the beginning, the older man established the rules of their relationship and of their intercourse. It had been very clear that Will was to obey the other.

That did not mean though that he could not show some initiative from his side. As the older man had held up his hand, covered with Will's own come, the desire to lick the fingers and the palm clean had been so great that he had reached out without waiting for permission.

Never before had Will tasted another's sperm. There had never been the need or possibility. But he found that he liked the taste that blossomed in his mouth together with the taste of Hannibal's skin and a combination of other flavors – the herbs from their meal for one.

As the other settled in between Will's spread thighs, he could feel a surge of elation and happiness filling him. Never in his life had he felt this free. It was as if every restriction that had ever existed and held him back, had dissolved and Will was finally able to breathe properly. His eyes started to sting with all the brightness of the new world that presented itself to him.

Will was ready to burst from the emotional overload. No words could ever describe what he felt in this moment.

The cloth of the older man's pants felt strangely rough against his over-sensitive skin. The material scratched against his thighs and his groin. Will spread his legs further and pressed slightly up. He wanted the other to take off his clothes. The need to touch skin was over-whelming.

Before he could ask for permission to unclothe Hannibal, the older man reached down to his own trousers. He held himself upright with one hand while the other tugged his white shirt out of the linen trousers.

Will's move to assist was met with a reprimanding look. "I did not give you permission to move yet, Will."

At the words he could feel excitement flooding him again. His heart started to pound harder and his breathing got more erratic. It was not likely that he would get erect that soon after his orgasm but he felt passion rise in him none the less.

Hannibal had tugged his shirt out now and was slowly unbuttoning it. Will caught glimpses at the other's body through the more and more gaping shirt. The older man was of a far stockier build than Will himself. There was a compactness to the other's frame but also a strength that showed in the broad shoulders and the flexing of muscles as Hannibal moved.

The shirt was open now and revealed an expanse of slightly tanned skin. It was not as dark as Will's skin but then again the older man was not very likely to sun bathe or lie a whole day on a small boat out on the open sea with no shirt on. It was more like a slightly bronze tinge to the otherwise pale skin.

Next were the trousers. Hannibal unbuttoned the single button on top and then unzipped the rest. Will was pleasantly surprised to find that was Hannibal wasn't wearing any undergarments either. The hand that had been busy with freeing Hannibal from his fabric restraints pushed the pants down where they got caught mid-thigh.

It was clear that at least Hannibal would have to get up if they wanted to fully undress. The older man stemmed himself up and climbed down from Will. As he stood up from the couch, the opened pants dropped to the floor.

Hannibal picked them up and lay them down on the table next to the couch. His back was turned to Will as he shrugged out of the shirt. The younger man watched entranced the movement of the muscles in Hannibal's shoulders and back. He felt his cheeks flush as he pictured that power concentrated on dominating him.

His mouth went dry but still he tried to swallow to get rid of the tightness in his throat.

When the other turned back to Will his eyes roamed over the man lying on the couch. It was as if he could feel the eyes travel over his skin. Will wanted nothing more but the other body covering his again. He liked the safety he felt trapped between the furniture and Hannibal.

"We will have to do something about your unsatisfactory state of undress, Will. Don't move." Hannibal bent over Will and reached for the waistband of the open pants. Carefully he tugged the clothes down. The younger man had to slightly raise his hips but nothing was said about his disobedience.

The shirt had dropped to the floor earlier on and was lying under the armrest of the couch. Will watched as the older man picked it up to deposit on top of the other clothes.

As he saw Hannibal walk away from the couch, he panicked shortly. Would the other leave him here like this? There as the sound of soft padding in the entrance followed by a rustling of paper. Curiosity rose but still Will refrained from moving. It would not do to disobey even more.

He could hear Hannibal's return to him before the other actually returned to his field of vision. In his hands he held a small package and a tube. Will did not have to read the writing on the items to know what was in them. The excitement that had been returning was rising more and more.

If Will had said that he was not also nervous about what was to come, he would have been lying. Fact was that this was after all his first sexual encounter with a man. He had a general idea about what was involved but his knowledge was a bit vague on the details.

Hannibal stood next to the couch, looking down at Will. The maroon eyes had a greedy glint in them as the older man leisurely took Will's appearance in.

The box was laid aside on the small table next to the clothes and Hannibal climbed back on top of the younger man. He dropped the tube between Will's body and the couch as he settled back in between the spread legs. The plastic of the tube was cool against his skin and the blonde tried to shift away from it. His attempt was met with a warning glare and a hand holding his hips still.

Will forced himself to ignore the irritating coldness at his side and concentrated on the warm body above him. He studied the other man's body closely. The chest was sparsely covered with brown curls that were starting to grey. He was curious what the hair would feel like should he card hand through them.

When the other let himself lie down completely on top of Will, the body's weight almost crushed Will but it also made him feel sheltered. Now that both hands were free, Hannibal caressed his face. His fingers traced the scar on one side while cupping the face on the other side.

This time when the older man's lips descended on his own Will didn't wait for the other to initiate a deeper kiss. He opened his mouth and prodded with his tongue against Hannibal's lips. He sighed, satisfied, when his tongue was sucked into the other's mouth.

At first Hannibal held Will's face in place during the kiss but soon he let go to put his hands at the other's sides. The fingers fanned out over the ribs on each side and one thumb dug slightly in the sensitive area between two ribs. The grip tightened as Will felt Hannibal getting aroused.

At no time in the past would he have thought this possible. Not only was he having sexual intercourse with a man, no, he was allowing Hannibal Lecter to take him. Allowing was not the right word. Will was actually craving the doctor's touches. It felt like finally he was able to be himself.

The hardening organ that was pressed against his groin felt incredibly hot. Will wanted to reach down and touch the older man's cock. He was curious about how Hannibal would react to his manipulations but he knew better than to go against the precise orders he had been given. He would just have to wait for permission. Maybe it would not be given today but sometime it would.

Hannibal licked from Will's bruised lips to the lower end of the scar and traced it with his tongue. A hot trail was left on the puckered skin there and it dried quickly, cooling the area.

_"Run away, run away"_

The hands left their place over the ribs and crawled down to their both groins. They fondled Will's spent cock before reaching for Hannibal's own. A slow rhythmic pumping started. The moving fist brushed over his lower stomach and over the base of the younger man's cock.

Will tried to catch a glimpse of what Hannibal was doing but his current position and Hannibal's pinning him in place made it impossible to see anything of the happenings. He settled instead on watching the older man's face.

During his visit to the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the late Doctor Chiltern had excitedly told Will about Hannibal's attack on the nurse. The thing which had most impressed Chiltern had been the cold-bloodedness with which the man had bitten into the woman's face – his pulse never rising higher than 85.

Will was able to witness now, Dr. Hannibal Lecter letting go of his composure. If Will had put a lot of trust in Lecter not to hurt him, it was nothing compared to the level of trust the older man put in him. It was unheard of that Hannibal lowered his defenses like this in front of another person. And he did it willingly none the less.

The blonde watched, fascinated, how Hannibal's face relaxed and his features softened. There was the glimmer of excitement in the haunting eyes above him and a soft flush darkened the paler skin of the other. It amused Will to think that with a woman the color would be called 'Maiden's blush'.

The hand on Hannibal's erection sped up and the movements got more erratic. The times when the fist would brush over the younger man's cock increased and the beginning excitement in Will started to spread through his body, signaling his sated body that there was more to come still.

Will could feel he hot wetness of Hannibal's pre-come dripping onto his stomach, mingling with Will's own sperm there. The tough of them merging together was extremely arousing.

He could feel one of Hannibal's hands moving from the hard cock to Will's side. At first Will wondered why the older man started to stroke up his side as if searching for something but then the hand stopped and grabbed hold of the tube trapped between Will and the couch. In the time since its deposit there and Hannibal's retrieval of it, the blonde's body heat had warmed it up.

The pumping stopped as Hannibal pushed himself up, sitting back between Will's thighs. Finally the blonde was able to get a look at the older man's naked and aroused body. Hungrily he took the other's appearance in. What made others look wanton and out of control, looked only natural to Hannibal. The older man's erection was glistening with pre-come; its color dark. It was bigger than Will had expected it to be. This circumstance made the younger man wonder how Hannibal would be able to accommodate it inside of Will. It looked nigh impossible.

As if he could hear the younger man's doubts, Hannibal reached out to massage Will's stomach and inner thighs seductively. "Don't be afraid, Will. I promised to take care of your fear for you. Trust me."

The words could not completely erase all doubts in him but they calmed Will enough so that he could relax once more.

Sensing the change in the blonde, Hannibal opened the tube and squeezed some of the clear gel onto his fingers. His maroon eyes locked with the bright blue gaze of Will; the older man reached between the younger man's thighs. He slipped his fingers between the blonde's buttocks, massaging the puckered entrance there. He smeared the lubrication liberally to make sure that everything was slippery.

Some more of the gel and Hannibal pressed a finger against the entrance and into Will. The feeling was not really painful. It was more like an unfamiliar pressure at the bottom of Will's spine. The blonde's relaxed state was seemingly proof enough that Will was ready for more. This time two fingers pressed into Will.

Now this hurt more than before. A slight burning started in the stressed area. Any movement of Will's was stopped by the second hand holding his hips still. As the lubricated fingers moved in and out of his body, the pressure and burning got less. Will's body was adjusting to the new challenge.

The movement changed. Hannibal scissored his fingers inside Will, loosening him more. At his next push into the blonde's body, the fingers started to dig deeper, searching inside Will's body.

And their search was successful. A wave of hot pleasure crashed through the younger man's body as Hannibal's fingers brushed over some spot inside Will. A lustful moan spilled from the blonde's lips and he tried to push back against the fingers that invaded him.

His attempt was met with an amused chuckle. "Sh, slow down Will. There's no need to hurry."

With every new brush over this spot, Will's body gained on heat and the erection that he had thought to be impossible before started to grow again. He felt as if his skin and body were on fire.

Hannibal paused shortly only to press three fingers into Will's more than willing body. The younger man was too excited to react to the sudden burning in his rear. Only moments later the uncomfortable feeling lessened. It dissolved completely soon thereafter.

Will almost didn't hear the sound of the box being opened. He felt the other changing his position though. A last brush over Will's prostate and then the fingers disappeared, leaving him empty and needing.

The blonde slowed his pants and looked down to see what Hannibal was doing. He saw the condom being fished out of the torn foil and rolled up over the older man's heavy erection. The latex covered cock was coated with lubrication and then Hannibal moved forward to position himself at Will's opening.

The reddish eyes flickered up to the younger man's face. The possessiveness and hunger in them made Will catch his breath. The sudden crimson flicker was the only warning Will got before Hannibal pressed into him.

There was pain and Will tensed up, whimpering softly.

"Sh, don't move. Don't resist. It's so gentle."

Surprisingly the memory of Hannibal's attack that was invoked by the words calmed him. Will obeyed the words, letting go of all the tension. Inch by inch Hannibal sunk into his body, filling him almost to the edge of bursting.

Once the older man was fully buried inside Will, he pulled out again, only to repeat his claiming of Will.

The slow rhythm that had been established continued for some time before the blonde's increasing passion made Hannibal speed up his thrusts. Angling carefully he aimed for Will's prostate.

Will reached down between their bodies to wrap his hand around his own straining erection. He started to pump in time with Hannibal's thrusts. The heat pooling in his stomach and at the base of his cock bordered on pain and Will could feel his muscles tensing and preparing for the nearing orgasm.

As the movements got more erratic, the blonde sped his fist up. The heavy musky scent of arousal had filled the room and started to fog his senses.

Hannibal increased the strength of his thrusts. He balanced on his arms as he pounded into the man under him. Will wanted to bring their bodies closer together and he wrapped his legs around the other's hips, drawing the older man down on him and enabling a faster pace.

His unoccupied hand had grabbed Hannibal's shoulder but the soft film of sweat made the skin slippery and time and time again, Will had to renew his grip. His fingers dug into the skin and left red imprints of the finger nails.

The pressure inside Will's body got too much and he squeezed his cock while pumping furiously. This proved to be enough stimulation to finally allow the blonde to come for the second time that afternoon.

Tremors ran through his body as he let go of his spent organ and wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck, pressing their bodies flush together. He could feel his cooling sperm being smeared between their two bodies, covering them in Will's scent.

It did not take Hannibal long after Will's organ to reach his climax as well. After a couple of hard thrusts, the older man's movements stuttered and he bit down on Will's shoulder. The pain mingled with the haze of the aftermath and the burning pleasure where the other stretched the blonde deliciously, provoked a longing sigh from Will.

His grip around the other's hips and the neck tightened. Will felt like he had finally found the inner balance he had been missing all his life.

_"Run away from all your whoredom and wave  
your worries and cares goodbye"_


	14. Sleeping With Ghosts

_"It seems it's written  
but we can't read between the lines"_

The air was fresh and smelled of the rain that had drenched everything for the last couple of hours. There was an uncharacteristic silence as everyone was still inside their homes and even the wildlife was still staying in their shelters.

Hannibal sat on a garden chair on the terrace. He enjoyed the cool evening breeze and the for once acceptable temperature. The glass sliding door behind him was open and allowed fresh air to waft into the stuffy room. It helped to clean out the room from the smell of cooking but it also cleared the stuffy scent from their lovemaking.

Will had fallen asleep soon after their mutual climax. He had been exhausted from all the stress and exertion of the day. For the first time since Hannibal had taken to watching the blonde, his face had softened when falling asleep, no trace of fear from a nightmare. It was a sure sign that the younger man was finally coming to terms with himself and that he was accepting his inner demon as well.

The willingness with which Will absorbed everything that Hannibal added to their relationship was a joy to behold. It seemed like the blond was a dried out sponge who now soaked up all of Hannibal's attention and tenderness.

Once the blonde had fallen asleep Hannibal had left the younger man lying on the couch. He had gone upstairs to Will's bedroom and headed for the shower in the adjoining bathroom. Although the smell of Will and sex was not an unpleasant one, the smell of his own sweat was not really something that he was overly fond of.

The room was cool and dark because of the drawn curtains. They had forgotten, though to close the window when the rainstorm had started and now the floor beneath the window as well as the curtains were drenched in water. The bed and the clothes from the unlaundered basket where an untidy heap because of the wind that had blown through the room.

Hannibal picked the clothes items up that were lying in his path and put them back in the basket. He found a clean bath towel at the bottom of the basket and took it with him to the bathroom. The floor was a tad clammy in the bedroom.

The bathroom still looked like it did when Will had abandoned it. The shower curtains were drawn back only partially and the bathroom floor had water stains on the polished tiles where the water from Will's body had pooled.

Turning on the shower, Hannibal checked if the water was cool and, after correcting the temperature, stepped under the warm spray. He closed his eyes and turned the face towards the shower head, letting the cleansing spray hit his face.

He could feel the accumulated grime and sweat run down his body together with the water from the shower. But water alone was not enough to get rid of all the dirt. Hannibal turned away from the spray and cracked his eyes open to scan the shower cubicle for soap or some lotion to clean his body.

In the corner stood a see-through plastic bottle with a worn paper label on the front. The many showers had turned the paper wrinkly and grayish but it was still possible to read what was written on the label. There was the picture of a coconut and the name "Rosalia's'."

He picked up the bottle and flipped the cap open. The smell that greeted him was pure Will and he thought about the pleasant smell of the lotion combined with the younger man's musk.

The bottle was almost empty and he decided to get a new one as soon as possible.

Since this was the only soap that was to be found in the cubicle, Hannibal poured some of it onto his torso and started to rub the white cream into his skin and over his stomach and lower abdomen. Four more helpings of the lotion were needed to soap his arms and legs as well and then he turned back to the shower spray and let the water wash the suds down from his body.

There was no shampoo in the shower and Hannibal just soaked his hair with the water cleansing them from the most dirt and sweat.

He switched the shower off and stepped out of the cubicle. Hannibal picked up the bath towel he had deposited on the wash basin and shook it out to open the terry cotton cloth. With efficient swipes he dried his body.

On his way from the bathroom he dropped the used towel into the basket of dirty clothes and padded through the cool bedroom and down the corridor to the stairs that led down.

Will was still the way he had left him. The blonde was curled up and his soft exhales were almost imperceptible. Hannibal stopped next to the couch and watched the younger man sleep before he took his clothes from the couch table. Stepping into the trousers he decided that he would look into the fridge and get some wine.

He zipped the pants and buttoned the little button on top close. Hannibal strolled to the kitchen. On the way there he slipped his shirt on and buttoned the bottom buttons close. The air was much cooler and lighter now that the rain was over. The biggest problem had not been the heat but the high humidity that had felt like a weight pressing down on everything.

Hannibal opened the door of the refrigerator and scanned the contents. On top of the top shelf was a rack for beverages and on there was another bottle of the wine they had had with the fish. It was a fruity white wine with a bouquet of apricots and slight traces of nutmeg. He had to go to the delicatessen and compliment the owner for the good recommendation he had made.

He took a small knife and cut off the plastic wrap around the cork of the bottle. Opening the drawer with the cooking tools, he took out the corkscrew. Hannibal uncorked the bottle and set the cork aside. It was a shame that white wine did not crystallize like red wine did.

Hannibal poured himself a glass and then corked the bottle again. He put it back into the fridge but this time he had to put it in the small larder with the milk and the orange juice bottle on the inside of the door.

Picking up the glass of wine, he crossed the living room and opened the glass sliding door that lead out to the terrace. The sky outside was of a dove grey and there were swipes of a lighter grey. Everything had a fresh look as if the rain had washed the colors of the plants and houses outside.

He stepped outside and at once the hem of his pants was drenched in the water that had puddled on the wooden boards of the terrace. The wood was slick but still warm from being heated up the whole day.

The chairs were all wet but Hannibal saw the folded tablecloth under the chair next to the sliding door. The wind had apparently torn it from the table and it had gotten caught under the wooden furniture. Setting down the glass of wine, Hannibal picked the cloth up and folded it up.

He put it on the seat of the chair and sat down on it. At least it was not that wet. He picked up the glass again and sipped at it. The wine was too cold to unfold its flavor properly. He would have to adjust the temperature of the fridge later on.

Settling back, Hannibal watched the early evening. He felt calm and content with the pace and the direction things were going. Hannibal spent the time until Will's awakening relaxing.

_"These clouds we're seeing  
they're explosions in the skies"_

The sound of padding feet from the inside of the cottage heralded the approach of the younger man. There was movement in the corner of his left eye and then Will passed him by, taking a seat on the wet chair next to him. Will grimaced slightly as the cold wetness was soaked up by the cloth of his pants and the fabric started to cling to his skin, but he did not move.

The younger man looked a little bit bedraggled with his hair tousled and sticking up in odd ways. Bed hair.

A yawn split his face and Will leaned forward, arms crossed on the table in front of him, head resting on top. His eyes were slightly puffy from sleep. He only wore his now come-stained trousers, which were loosely tied up and hanging dangerously low on the blonde's hips.

The bare chest and upper torso allowed Hannibal to see the imprint of his teeth on Will's shoulder. With time the marks would fade but at this moment they were a temporary, additional mark of Hannibal's claim on the younger man. Just like the scar on his lower abdomen and the scar on his face.

Watching Will sitting comfortably close to him, Hannibal was convinced that, were the former FBI profiler a cat, he would be purring with content. The older man reached out to the resting head and carded his fingers through the sweat-soaked curls.

The only reaction to this was a slight movement of the head – leaning into the caress – and the blue eyes glittering through the lowered eyelashes.

"It's no game." The voice was hoarse and it sounded more like a croaking than real speech.

But Hannibal had understood it none the less. He did not say anything to confirm Will's statement. It was not on him to reassure the blonde. The younger man had to be convinced about it without any influence or manipulation from Hannibal's side. With time Will would understand where they were heading but for now he would continue to question the direction.

The hair felt still soft although they were sticking together in thicker strands from the sweat that had started to dry. Hannibal twisted a strand between his fingers, rubbing the sweaty hair until it was parted into thinner strands.

Letting go of the hair, he rested his hand on the table and looked from Will to the garden behind the blonde. It was not a very big garden but there was a gigantic palm right outside the fence and the walls and fence were overgrown with passion flowers and bougainvillea. The bright blossoms of the pink bougainvillea radiated in the grayish-ness of the rainstorm aftermath.

"The passion flowers always remind me of lion fish." Will's comment was contemplative. "When I came here and searched for a place to live I saw the garden with the passion flowers and knew that this would be where I was going to stay."

Hannibal closely watched the younger man's face as Will revealed something of his past. It was a sign that the other was slowly getting more comfortable with himself. It was not typical for Will to think about his past. Some more time and more tutoring from Hannibal and he would even be able to talk about his past in Baltimore and Florida.

The blonde head turned towards Hannibal and the puffy eyes focused on the older man. There was a calmness in the blue eyes that had not been there before. Not when they had first met, not when they had worked together, not during the visits during the incarceration and definitely not when they had come across each other here in Trinidad.

It looked like Will had finally found his inner center. The look suited him far better than the restless and haunted air he had possessed before.

The younger man reached out with one hand to the empty wine glass. His fingers wrapped around the frail stem of it and started turning it around, playing with it. His thumb brushed over the balloon of the glass.

All the time the blonde's eyes were fixed on Hannibal's face though as if he was trying to find the answer to some question there.

Finally the silence weighed too heavy on Will. "Are you going to stay?"

"Stay where, Will?"

There was no reaction. The glass continued turning and the younger man continued watching him.

A slight breeze wafted over the terrace and tousled the golden mop on Will's head. The other blinked a couple of times as a strand of the hair was blown into his eyes but he did not reach up to brush the hair away.

Hannibal reached out and twisted the strand of hair between his fingers before he tucked it behind the younger man's ear. The skin and the hair were a soft whisper against his fingers and he traced the shell of the ear to Will's jaw. He could feel the faint trace of stubble there.

"Stay here in the cottage or stay in Trinidad?"

"You are thinking about going to a different country?" Will seemed to be surprised by Hannibal's questions. "I thought…"

"I never said I wanted to leave Trinidad, although it is a possibility in the future." In the near future if he had any say in that. Which he definitely had. "I was just trying to specify your question."

"Are you going to stay with me?" The question was a soft exhale that ghosted over the underside of the older man's arm.

"Now that is a question, Will, you'll have to find the answer to yourself. Am I going to stay with you, Will?" The question was lightly asked but Hannibal watched Will carefully as the younger man decided upon an answer to the question.

Finally he seemed to have made a decision. "Yes. Yes, you are going to stay."

_"Soulmate dry you eye  
'cause soulmates never die"_


	15. You Don't Care About Us

_"If it's a bad day, you try to suffocate´  
Another memory, scarred"_

Will spread the dirty towels he and Hannibal had used over the wet floor under the bedroom window. The wooden floorboards were sensitive to water and drenching them would lead to the boards welling up. Will wanted to avoid tearing out the boards and replacing them.

He had taken the curtains down and they lay in a messy heap next to the towels. They were not dirty but he had decided that since they had to be taken down anyway, he would wash them as well.

Will pulled the shirt he had been holding over his head and strode out of the room. The shower he had taken had felt like paradise.

The first floor was quiet and he turned to the kitchen. Hannibal had left about thirty minutes ago to change his clothes and to get what he would need for the next day. The older man had decided to come with Will out on the sea the next day.

On Tuesdays, Will usually had the afternoon off because Muta drove down to the harbour and helped out with repairs. The blonde wanted to take the noon off as well. He felt like spending a day out on the water. It was a break from the same old routine.

The dish washer had finished while Will had taken his shower and he started to unload it. The time it took to put the dishes and cutlery away, Will used to contemplate the happenings of this day. And there was a lot to contemplate.

Their reunion had turned out very different from what he had expected it to. For a very long time he had feared the moment when he would come to face with people from his past and his greatest fear had been to meet Hannibal Lecter again. This fear had not had so much to do with being afraid of dying or possible physical pain. The fear had had to do with remembering things that he preferred to stay buried in the past.

During his time running from one place to the other Will had often wondered what he would do should he come to stop and settle down. And when he had indeed settled down his thoughts had resolved around what would happen should his mind settle down as well.

A big question was of course what would lead to his settling down. Body and mind. Body was simple. It was the need of rest. Settling down in one place to be able to come to a rest and not hurry around never sure where you will end up and for how long you have to stay there before moving on. Mind was a far more complicated and difficult matter. The mind simply refused to settle and calm down together with the body.

Long after Will had made his home in Port of Spain his mind still was reeling, simply refusing to step back and relax as well. A settled body and a travelling mind were not a good combination though and so Will had had to throttle his racing mind with alcohol. Numb it so that it was not able to flee and leave him behind. He simply refused to lose his mind.

And then his past had caught up with him. First in the person of Dr. Alan Bloom. His tied down mind had started to struggle against the alcoholic bonds and tried to free itself from the restraint. Once Bloom had lost his temper and his patience he had left Will. This should have given him the time to get a better grip again.

Only things had turned out different than he had expected and now he was surprised to find that the thing it had taken for his mind to settle and calm down was the very thing he had been running from.

Will had always considered it a sign of weakness on his part to give in to Lecter and he had feared what would happen should he let his imagination and mind free. Maybe he would go insane, maybe he would become somebody else.

But he noticed that nothing of the like had happened. Fact was that he saw things clearer than ever before and that he had found a balance and strength inside himself that surprised him. So many times in the past he had considered himself weak but in retrospect he realised that where he first had seen and perceived weakness was an incredible strength in reality.

This change in perception made him not only see his own past actions and decisions in a different light but he also saw other people's actions differently now. He could now understand the true reasonings and motivations that had before not been visible for him.

The more Will thought about the past and how he and others had acted back then, the more he came to the decision that there had been a great discrepancy between what his fellow men had perceived as their rights and what Will now realized would have been their rights. More than once others had used him to reach their goals. It had helped that he had been so busy with tearing himself to pieces that he had not had the time and necessary focus to realize what was happening.

Will was not delusional. He was well aware that even Lecter had played with him back then, but unlike most others he had not done so by making Will doubt himself even more. No, this was not how Hannibal Lecter achieved things. He wanted to win in a battle of wit and intelligence.

And now it seemed like he would help Will free himself from the shackles that had tied him down for so long. He was Will's knight in shining armour.

He put the last plate into the hanging cupboard and closed the dishwasher. Outside the evening was drawing to a close as night spread its dark blanket over the sky and cast everything into shadows. The living room was dark and the sole light inside the room was the dusky twilight from outside.

Will wanted to have a lazy start into the day tomorrow and so he decided to settle his business with Muta now. He crossed the entrance hall to the small table next to the front door. Above the flat surface and next to the clothes rack hung a portable phone. Taking the phone down he typed in the private number of his employer and waited for the dial tone to connect.

He had to wait for the fifth ring before his call was answered.

"Evening, Will."

"Evening, Muta," Will slowly went back to the living room. "I wanted to ask if it's possible to take tomorrow off."

"Hmm, I don't think that it should be a problem. You only have 'til noon anyway and because of the preparations there is not really a lot of business at the moment." There was the muffled sound of children playing in the back. "Will you be in on Thursday?"

"Thursday?" Will leaned on the wall next to the book shelf and shuffled the magazine lying there around. "Why not on Wednesday?"

"But there is group rehearsal on Wednesday, I told you last week already that the garage stays closed on Wednesday."

"Right, you did." A small piece of paper slipped out between the pages of the magazine. A business card. "Sorry, I all forgot about that."

"No problem. Enjoy your two days off."

A business card with a Chicago address. Bloom's business card. "Thanks," was Will's distracted reply.

 

"Bye."

"Bye." Will heard the click as Muta hung up the phone on the other end of the line. And he continued to stare at the small paper card.

He then punched the key to switch the phone off and put it aside. All the while staring at the black letters on the paper but not seeing them.

_"Think I'll leave it all behind  
Save this bleeding heart of mine"_

The cool breeze that stroked over his bare arms and naked feet tugged at his clothes and played with the drying strands of his hair. Will sat on the terrace, feet on the seat and his arms wrapped around them. His forehead rested against his drawn up knees and his eyes were closed.

There was tension in his body that resulted from the precarious position on the garden chair. There were the beginnings of strain and a slight ache in his muscles.

He did hear the return of Hannibal but the older man carded his hand through the blonde's hair once he came to stand next to the occupied chair. The feeling was like a soft massage or like the relaxing hair washes at the hair dresser.

The movement of the fingers stopped and Will could feel the soft cotton of the other's shirt brush against his bare arm as the older man leaned over him.

There was a short silence before Hannibal's voice reached his ear. "Were you bored? Did you want to make a call?" The voice was without any inflection but the blonde knew that this did not mean that the older man was indifferent to the topic. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Will decided though to ignore the question. He wanted that Hannibal put the same trust in Will that he did in the older man. He had been left to answer his questions by himself, proving that Will trusted Hannibal to make the right decisions. The blonde wanted the other to put the same trust in him and to answer this question himself as well.

"I already called Muta. He said that tomorrow is fine." There was the sound of a car stopping outside the garden. The music blasted loudly out of the open windows and there was the sound of young voices that greeted each other. "I want to head out to the harbour around ten."

There was no answer to the request but the fingers stayed buried in his hair. Will listened to the conversation that was going on outside. The music made it difficult to listen in though. But not only for Will. If the volume of the conversation was any indication, it seemed that the people participating in said conversation had difficulties as well understanding what was being said.

The fingers disappeared from his hair but there as the noise of a chair being put next to Will's and this time two hands reached for him, one stroking over his ankle and up his leg, the other tracing his lower arm and wrist.

The silence between them stretched but it was not one filled with tension. In fact it was a very relaxing and companionable feeling that filled Will. There was no need for words. It would most probably only ruin the comfort and peace of the moment.

A loud shout pierced the evening as the enthusiastic group was joined by even more people. There was a temporary increase in volume before the music suddenly stopped and the sound of the conversation started to lower as the party of friends retreated to the house of the host.

He lifted his head and opened his eyes, searching out Hannibal's face. The older man's features were relaxed and his maroon eyes had an amused glimmer. Apparently the lack of response to his question was of no greater concern to him.

The chair had been arranged in a way that enabled Hannibal to face Will's side. The older man leaned closer and smiled indulgently.

"Did you get everything you need for tomorrow or do we have to make detour to get the rest tomorrow before heading out?" Will reached with his hand for the fingers that stroked over his lower arm.

"Everything I need is in the car."

The older man captured Will's hand and guided it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss against the back of the younger man's hand. But the gesture soon lost all of its chastity when the other started to lick from the back of the hand to the fingers and he sucked the ring finger into the hot mouth.

Will's breath hitched and he had trouble with keeping his balance on the chair. The eyes that had been studying him all the time grew more intense in colour and the reddish tint took on a crimson quality.

The other hand crawled from the ankle it had been occupied with to the inseam of the pants Will was wearing and they dug into the tensed thighs. Slowly they reached their goal between the blonde's legs and started rubbing against the growing hardness there.

The tongue that was wrapped around Will's fingers cleaned the digit better than any thorough wash could have done and the suction of Hannibal's mouth implied unmistakeably what the other had in mind with Will. A last lick and then the older man tugged at the blonde's hand.

After a short moment of unfolding himself from the chair, the younger man climbed in Hannibal's lap, wrapping arms and legs around the other's body. He buried his face in the strong neck and nibbled on the soft skin there. Each small lick was followed by an even smaller bite.

The hand that had been rubbing the blonde through the pants before was now busy with unbuttoning the piece of clothing and sneaked into the opening. The palm was warm and possessed the perfect mixture of rough and soft to ensure a pleasurable experience. The fingers carded through the coarse pubic hair before closing around the erection still trapped inside the pants.

The other hand had in the meantime come to rest on Will's back to keep the blonde man balanced. The heat from the touch seared through the fabric as if branding the younger as the older man's property.

Will started to suck harder on the skin he had been playing with so far as the pumping of his erect member increased. It got harder by the minute to keep from moaning and thrusting into the hand. He really could do without entertaining the whole neighbourhood with his vocalisation of the pleasure that coursed through his body.

The sudden swipe over the engorged head of his penis proved to be too much for him though. A loud groan escaped him that he tried to cover up by kissing Hannibal. He had decided that the best strategy would be to keep his mouth happy so that he was not able to make any further noises.

His whole body felt like a tightly strung bow and he longed for the moment when he could let go.

Hannibal squeezed the erect member and once more rubbed over the sensitive head. In the meantime the hand that had been steadying Will had slowly slipped down and was at the moment worming into the trousers, working its way towards their goal. The fingers slipped between the cheeks and headed for the puckered skin of the opening. Once there they were starting to massage the muscles to relax them.

The pace of the pumping increased and Will could feel the pressure of the nearing orgasm. He broke their kiss and thrust into the hand around his erection with abandon, sighing and grunting his pleasure.

It only took a couple of more thrusts, squeezes and a finger pressing into his body to send him over the edge. His whole body tensed and froze as he spent himself in his pants, covering Hannibal's hand in semen.

_"It's a matter of trust  
You don't care about us"_


	16. Bruise Pristine

_"It's plain to see,  
it's either you or me"_

The sun was reflected in shards of white on the surface, dancing on the tips of the small waves. The salty air dried on the skin and drained all humidity from it, leaving it sticky.

A slight breeze gave the illusion of a lower temperature. Only the sting of the sun on the heated skin was an indication of the real temperature.

Will stretched his arms over his head. The neck and the spine shone with sweat that trickled down, disappearing into the swimming trunks. The bright sunlight gave the heavily tanned skin of the younger man a golden luminosity and made the blonde hair shine like spun gold.

Hannibal settled more comfortably into his chair as he watched the other man enjoying the heat and the open ocean. The blonde's face was relaxed and his eyes sparkled like the waves. Will was appar-ently very much at home at sea.

The older man had sought refuge in the shade of the parasol to keep out of the biting sunlight. He had soon realized that the heat and the intensity of the sun were increased tenfold by the masses of water surrounding them.

During his first days in Port-of-Spain, when he had followed the younger man around to find out about his habits and schedule, he had been surprised to find out that Will owned a sailing yacht.

Jörmungandr was a sailing yacht by Bénéteau of the model 57. It had a dark blue body that was al-most black. It was a medium sized yacht that was designed for up to five people. The living space was divided into a master bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, a kitchen, a dining/living area, a single bedroom with a separate bathroom and another double bedroom with an adjoining bathroom.

The whole interior was made of polished wood and white linen upholstery. Only the upholstery on deck was made of dark blue linen, matching the hull of the yacht.

The sleek ship was dancing over and through the waves like a seasoned ballerina. The light body was almost hovering over the water.

Hannibal had never spent a long time on board a ship. There had been neither the need nor the ne-cessity. But watching Will during his observation and now while the younger man relaxed, he found the vehicle – most of all its impact on Will – to be very enjoyable.

The breeze got stronger and tugged at the blonde's hair. But the windblown hair looked the same as they had when they had left for the harbor that noon. Gone was the neatly arranged hair from the younger man's FBI days. Even the ex-Special Investigator's hair refused to be tamed.

When Hannibal had woken up in the morning his first thought had been about how different every-thing looked from this new perspective. It was as if he had stepped out of his past life and was start-ing anew at some unknown and different place. Not that this was a bad thing, but time ought to be spent thinking about it. It was not every day that an encounter with another person haunted him for so long and had such a deep impact on him.

He was also in awe about the new direction his life was taking. There was a lot of promise and even the glimpse of a reward that was waiting for him.

While thinking about how to proceed and where to go now, Hannibal had started to trace random patterns on Will's skin, feeling the smoothness of the younger man's body. This action helped him to focus and had the satisfying side-effect that he was able to indulge in more intimacy with Will.

The soft snuffling and the slight tremor going through the body resting against him, told Hannibal that the other was slowly reaching consciousness. There was a sleep laden sigh ghosting against his chest and he looked down to see the younger man drowsily trying to focus his sight. After another second the golden head came to rest on his shoulder and Will pressed closer to him.

He had was able to feel a feeling of power rush into him and at the same time he also felt extremely protective of the man entrusting himself to Hannibal like this.

And exactly this feeling was starting to build inside him again as he watched Will relaxing and enjoy-ing the day and their outing on the open sea. It was like watching a wild bird that had been released from its cage and was allowed to spread its wings for the first time in a long time.

Seeing the freedom that the open sea promised, Hannibal wondered if it would be possible to live like this. No ties, not even to a certain location. Free like the wind, going wherever one wanted to. It was quite tempting.

But with the freedom of movement came a rootless-ness and insecurity that might be difficult to han-dle. Hannibal liked to be independent and free but he also liked to have a kind of safe haven, a place to call his own that he could return to time and again and where he could be sure to find the peace and security to recharge. A ship was not this place. Not for him.

When he had left his view behind after the killing of Pazzi, he had turned his back on the one place his heart had felt a connection to. It had been a rational and logical decision, a decision he would make again any time, but he missed Florence. There was something about the city that had always called to him.

The decision to go to Rio de Janeiro had stemmed from a curiosity about the differences between Europe and a Latin America. For some time until his parting with Clarice he had considered moving to another location.

Port-of-Spain had been only a temporary refuge. He had wanted to stay only as long as it took to decide upon where to go next. It was only because of the unexpected reunion with Will that Hannibal had stayed as long as he had.

But the decision about the next destination had been made. There was nothing that kept him tied to the Caribbean. Nothing that couldn't be moved. He wanted to return to Europe.

With Italy out of question it had been a difficult decision. London, Edinburgh, Paris, Nice, Monte Carlo, Amsterdam, Geneva, Vienna … there were many possibilities but none of them had appealed to him. Madrid, Barcelona, Dublin, Athens, Sophia? He was not sure what exactly he was looking for except a European city.

He had at first considered going to a Mediterranean country like Greece, France or Spain. But in the end he had decided that the only Mediterranean country he wanted to go to was Italy and that was out of question. Another reason for changing his mind about Southern countries was the weather and climate.

True, there was winter in these countries as well – in some parts at least – but he could do without constant sunshine and the heat. He had seen more than his share of it.

So what was left? Well, the rest of Europe of course. Central Europe gave him the feeling of being trapped. The Northern countries were also not what he had in mind. He could not put his finger on what exactly bothered him about the idea of living in Belgium or the Netherlands or why he refused to move to Great Britain or Ireland.

In the end he had decided that he wanted to turn east. It wouldn't have to be Lithuania but at bit more to the east than the other countries was what he had in mind. And that was how his choice had been made.

_"Trying to be ruthless  
in the face of beauty"_

Prague.

It was a city with a lot of promise. Hannibal had read up on the history and the people living there and he had at once felt like knowing the place. It was not as deep a connection he felt for Florence but there was something, something strong enough to ensure an instant connection between Hanni-bal and the city.

There was the promise of culture and history combined with the flair of an old European city that had seen hundreds, if not a millennia of years pass by.

Hannibal wanted to take a more detailed look at the city before making a definite decision but he was determined to leave in the next two to three weeks. He could feel the pull of the Old World that was beckoning to him.

The only obstacle in the way was Will. The other did not know yet that he was to move from Port-of-Spain to Prague. Hannibal was not overly concerned about the reaction to the news but he could do without complaints and any probable fighting against the move.

But, it still remained to be seen what the other's reaction was like.

Hannibal's eyes followed Will as the younger man paced over the deck of the sailing yacht. The rest-lessness was no sign of anxiousness but the need to release pent up energy. The sun seemed to force the blonde to move constantly in order to get rid of the power that was slowly growing.

The slight breeze that wafted over the deck ruffled Will's hair and caressed over Hannibal's skin. Without the reprieve from the wind, the heat would have been oppressive. The temperature was not any higher than usually but the water all around seemed to increase the heat immensely. Hannibal was grateful for the parasol.

He settled back on the bench and picked up the travel guide on Prague to find out more about his new view. The information was of course provided for tourists and therefore there was no real infor-mation to be found on everyday life, but it was enough to give a brief overview about what the city had to offer from a historic and cultural point of view.

Flipping the book open to where the small post-it sticker marked the page where he had stopped reading, Hannibal spared a last glance at Will who was preparing to go for a swim, before he contin-ued his reading of the guide.

There were several recommendations of places close to Prague that were interesting to visit and of-fered the possibility to explore the countryside surrounding the city.

Hannibal glanced up and over the page, watching Will put a towel to the side for later use. The younger man stretched a last time and then jumped over board into the Caribbean water.

Losing all interest in his reading, he closed the book again and got up to watch Will swim. The blonde moved with efficiency and with a lot of grace, as he glided through the water. It showed that he was used to the ocean.

There was a sparkle of blue and purple in the water. The sunlight reflected oddly on the surface and Hannibal squinted his eyes as he tried to make out why the surface looked different. A small plastic bag floated in the water, part of it filled with air and sticking out of the water. It looked like a small sailing ship.

Will started swimming around the ship and Hannibal found his attention shifting from the polluted water to the former FBI profiler.

Just watching the younger man as he enjoyed himself made Hannibal starting to reconsider his opin-ion on going swimming. He was not really a passionate swimmer to begin with and the incredible heat had only added to his disinterest in dunking himself in the vastness of the sea, but the way Will basked in the wet element made him reconsider his opinion.

There was a sudden stop in Will's movement and something like discomfort flashed over his face and the younger man stopped his rounds to swim back to the ship. His strides were less enthusiastic though. It was as if he was trying to swim through molasses.

This change in behavior had Hannibal walk to the side of the boat and leaning over the railing. He carefully watched Will's progress and his movements to make sure that the younger man was alright. He noticed the strain on the other's face and the way his tanned skin lost its golden tint and turned ashen. There was something very wrong with the former profiler.

Slowly Will drew closer to his destination and by the time he reached the hull of the ship, Hannibal had already knelt down and was reaching out for the younger man. He grabbed Will's shaking hand and pulled up and out of the water. There was not much help from Will himself with the matter.

Agonizing pain flashed over the other's features as Hannibal helped him onboard and the ashen pallor became even paler. The moment Will lay on the wooden planks of the yacht he heaved and puked in front of the older man's feet.

_"Bruise, Pristine,  
Serene" _


	17. Bitter End

_"On this fateful day  
See you at the bitter end"_

Will's side and arm burned as if a hot iron was poking into his skin, burning away, down to the very bone. It was a feeling like acid eating deeper and deeper into his flesh. The first thing that came to his mind was to scratch away what was causing all the pain.

The hot wooden planks under him felt refreshing cool compared to the heat biting into his side. Will felt the urge to curl up and protect his injured side, but his movement was stopped by a strong hand that held him into place.

"Hold still, Will. I need to take a look at you." Hannibal's voice was calm and helped him to focus on something different than his aching side.

"Burns," was his gasped reply to the other's command. "Burns everywhere."

Will cracked his eyes open and forced himself to look at Hannibal. There was a cold detachment in the maroon eyes that studied the younger man's side. Maybe this closed off expression in the other's eyes should have bothered him or made him wary but Will was in no condition to worry about it.

Tentatively Hannibal reached out to the reddish skin but Will fought to escape. There was no way he would allow him to touch the injured area.

"No!" he cried terrified. "Don't touch!"

The hand was stopped but it still hovered dangerously close to Will. After a second of hesitation it retreated – for the time being at least.

"The burns," Will fought hard to speak clearly but the pain only allowed gasped fragments of sentences," Don't touch them. Vinegar."

Will hated being reduced to sentences worthy of a two year old. He wished the ache would just disappear so that he could regain control of his speaking abilities. It was horrible not being able to articulate his wishes and the advice, that not Hannibal, but he himself sorely needed in this moment.

Apparently he had not done too bad a job at explaining what was necessary because after a last glance at Will, Hannibal got up from his crouch next to him and headed for the kitchen compartment in the inside of the ship. The older man's stockier form disappeared down the stairs, the shadows from inside swallowing him up.

Will tried to focus on something else besides then burning pain. His breaths were abnormally loud as he gasped and gulped for more oxygen. Will was scared of what was to come. The pain and the sick-ness, as well as the breathing problems were only the beginning and everything else would be upon them soon enough.

He needed medical attention. Now. But even though Hannibal was a doctor, he would surely not be qualified to take care of an injury like this. So the only solution would be to return to the island. But how?

The sudden realization that Hannibal would not be able to get the ship back to the harbour made his breath catch and he fought for air, and for some resemblance of control over himself. Fact was that the other man had never sailed before; the longest he had spent aboard a ship had been today's out-ing.

The only option they had was to call for help and to hope that it would arrive in time. He should have told Hannibal to bring the mobile phone with him. They needed to get a doctor here as fast as possi-ble.

There was a creaking at the stairs and Hannibal returned. He carried a big glass bottle of Aceto Bal-samico and Will's mobile phone. This might work; they were actually close enough to get a connec-tion.

The older man knelt down next to Will and put the small phone aside to open the bottle. The sweet-sour smell of the wine vinegar scented the air and Will felt bile rise in his throat. He had to fight hard against the feeling of queasiness. He was not sure how helpful Aceto Balsamico was to begin with, but it ought to be better than nothing at all.

"Hold still, I have to apply the vinegar to the affected area." Hannibal's voice was calm and meant to help him find something to focus on and to ignore the biting pain.

It actually felt like the pain was slowly becoming less. This might just be an illusion created to reduce the strain put on the tortured nerves, or it might as well be a sign that the next stage was beginning. The latter was a terrifying thought.

"Will." Still calm but now the voice had a hard undertone to it. He struggled to pay attention to the things said. "I will pour the vinegar on the wound. Stay still!"

The moment the liquid came in contact with his skin, the burning increased by a tenfold. Will couldn't help but groan painfully. Why did it hurt so much? Vinegar was supposed to help with jellyfish stings. His breaths became even shorter and he had to fight to cling to his consciousness.

"Will," more steel to the voice again. "I need to you to tell me who to call. We need help."

Right. He could do that. Telephone number. If only he was able to focus on the problem at hand. It was so difficult to ignore the intense burning and think about something else. With an effort he fo-cused long enough to come up with a name that could be of help. "Muta." His friend would know who to call, what to do. "Call Muta."

A sharp nod acknowledged his request and Hannibal searched for the name in the mobile's address book. Will watched a little bit longer before the pain made him close his eyes to concentrate harder on breathing and staying conscious. It was a difficult feat but he would be able to do it.

_"You're showering me with lullabies  
As you're walking away"_

A hand on his shoulder incited him to crack his eyes open and take a glance at the other's face. He didn't want to look at Hannibal; he wanted the pain to stop. His head felt light and heavy at the same time. It was as if his head was empty but too heavy to be turned or turned around.

With more than just a little effort Will rolled his head to the side and glanced out over the sea. He spotted something out in the water. In some distance to the boat floated a pinkish-blue bubble that was carried there and hither by the waves, without any real intention or destination in mind. It had a strange resemblance to a small sailing boat, a boat with shimmering and colorful sails. The swollen bag looked like it was ready take off and fly away but something kept it tied to the water and hin-dered it from the much desired escape.

No jellyfish. It was no jellyfish. That's why the vinegar had hurt and was still hurting him so much. Forcing himself to look over at Hannibal Will overheard the other's conversation with Muta.

"… from the water. It must have been some kind of jellyfish. We poured some vinegar onto the wound but he needs more help." Hannibal stopped his side of the conversation to listen to the an-swer. He looked at Will, noticing him trying to get his attention. "One moment please."

"Will?"

"No jellyfish…"

"What do you mean with 'no jellyfish'? What attacked you then?" It felt like the maroon eyes were pinning him down onto the wooden planks of the yacht. There was the slight onset of confusion on the older man's face as he tried to find out what Will was trying to imply.

"It was no jellyfish." The talking was getting more and more difficult but he fought to keep on talking, "It was a … Portuguese Man o' War."

Satisfied that he had been able to communicate his discovery, Will closed his eyes and released a shaky breath. Muta and Hannibal would know what to do and they would help him. He knew they would.

His exhaustion made it impossible to listen to the conversation going on and so it was again a hand on his shoulder that brought him back to reality and made him open his eyes. The touch felt cool on his overheated skin and sent slight shivers over his arms and shoulder. The lids of his eyes felt heavy and were aching and his eyes burnt. Who would have thought that the sting of the Man o' War would have this potency? He had heard about the sickness and the sometimes difficulty to stay conscious but to Will it felt more like his whole body slowly but constantly getting lame and that everything would result in his heart stopping to beat.

Forcing himself to focus on the man watching over him, Will realized that Hannibal was talking to him. Maybe he had asked him something? Will concentrated even more on paying attention but it was so difficult.

"Will, hold on. Muta said that there is a Coast guard out that will come here and take us to shore. They also know about the first aid needed. In the harbor an ambulance will be waiting for you." The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently in a way that was meant to be reassuring but caused Will addi-tional pain. His whole body was protesting against any and every external influence.

"I have to say, Will, that this little outing of ours didn't go quite as I expected." Laughter stole into the maroon orbs and wrinkled at the corners of the older man's eyes. It was a relief and also an anchor to see the familiar face.

The burning lessened some more but darkness was at the edge of his vision and waited to creep over him. Will took a stuttering breath and kept on fighting. He wished the coast guard was already here and they were on their way ashore. His strength was fading and he was not sure for how much longer he would be able to keep on fighting.

"I think this is the perfect time for my telling about what I have been deciding for us to do, once the current problem is dealt with of course." The older man crouched down and studied his face. Will knew that what would come now was important and that he ought to pay attention but he feared that this was just out of the way at the moment.

"Will, I have thought about where to go from here. This is not only a phrase to express my thoughts on the developing relationship between the two of us but this is also referring to the topic of reloca-tion. I know that you have grown quite fond of this place here but I fear that the resources of culture are limited and the variety of diversions is rather scarce. I also have to admit that the local climate is not at all what I consider to be agreeable.

"Don't you ever grow tired of the constant sunshine, heat and rainstorms?" The question had to be a rhetorical one, because in no way could Hannibal expect him to answer. There was no way that he would be able. "Well, taking all these facts into consideration, I perused various possibilities. Since the North American continent is out of the question for me, I focused my research on the Old World, Europe in particular. There is one place that has come to my attention and of that I am sure that your will approve of as well."

Will felt his head ache. It was a throbbing that felt like it would either squash his brain or result in his head exploding. He had lost Hannibal somewhere along the way into his speech and was now left to wonder what exactly the other was trying to do here. The darkness grew and he tried to lift his hand and grab Hannibal's. He was in need of tactile confirmation of the other's presence.

"I think Prague will be the perfect choice…" The maroon eyes left his face and looked up over him. Tension was slowly leaving the older man's body and he stood up. "The coast guard is here."

Finally. Things would get better now. They would take him to the shore and they would have the right antidote and…

There was movement to his right and Will struggled to look at the commotion. A dark-skinned officer knelt down next to him, his colleague was searching through a large medical bag. The stranger smiled reassuring at him. "No worry, we'll take care of the most important thing now and the doctor is al-ready waiting for to take over."

Will nodded slowly and finally let his eyes droop closed. He knew that with Hannibal close and the other people helping him he was safe. He would be alright in no time and then he would ask Hannibal what exactly he had been trying to tell him just before.

_"On this fateful day,  
See you at the bitter end"_


	18. Epilogue

_Prague five months later:_  
Karlův Most was unnaturally empty. No tourists to block the bridge and make it look like a huge snake, alive and restless. This emptiness was also recognizable in the time it took to walk over it. The usual twenty to thirty minute commute was reduced to five minutes of swift walking.

Hannibal stopped halfway on his way over the bridge and took in the sight of the Vltava River, noticing the declining height of the water. The summer had been hot with random bursts of rain. It had confused the weather forecast and annoyed the locals but had not had any impact on the masses of tourists that invaded the city all around the year.

Every tourist destination had a peak and a low season. Not so with Prague. The city center, the Hradčaný and Vyšehrad were crawling with foreigners each day of every month. The medieval and Art Nouveau buildings of the central districts attracted more people every year and provided the local population with a secure income.

After a last glance down the river to Fred 'n' Ginger, Hannibal started walking again towards Malá Strana. He was on his way from the delicatessen close to Vaclavské Naměstí to his apartment in the Kampa area. He preferred the calmer atmosphere of this part of Malá Strana to the restlessness of the Staré Město. It was not like there were no tourists on this side of the Vltava River. There were just as many people worming their way through the streets and alleys of the Malá Strana uphill to Pražský Hrad as there were all around Staré Město, Vaclavské Naměstí, Pařižská and the surrounding sights like Josefov with its old Jewish cemetery and its many different synagogues. The difference was that, in the Kampa region, there existed more quiet alleys and rarely frequented streets than in the first district.

Hannibal passed the last tourist vendors on the bridge and turned to the steps leading down from the side of the bridge. He reached the small square at the bottom of the stairs and crossed it, ignoring the last flocks of tourists that rested on the small benches and glanced at the small beer gardens outside the restaurants.

The park was even emptier than the bridge and he let the calm wash over him, cleansing away the tension of his excursion into town. He left the bigger path through the park in favor of a small path that lead to the side arm of the Vltava River. 'Devil's Creek', the small amount water was hardly worth this name.

Crossing another bridge he entered a narrow cobble-stoned alley and followed it to its end. There was no boardwalk, there was no need: no car would ever fit into the alley. The small bar was already open and Přemysl, the waiter, was setting up the tables outside. He glanced up from his work long enough to nod his customary greeting at Hannibal before continuing his work.

Hannibal reached the entrance to the house and balanced his purchases in one hand while reaching for the door to unlock it. Just was he was about to open it, the door was pushed outwards and Mrs. Davidková bustled out of the house. She dragged her small lapdog behind her.

"Dobrý večer." Hannibal stepped to the side to let the elderly lady pass.

"Dobrý večer pan Fell. Jak se máš?" With her eighty-seven years she looked strong and regal like nobility. She had her steel-gray hair braided to keep it out of her face.

"Dobrý. Mám se krásný, děkuji vám. Jak se mate paní Davidková?"

The older woman smiled, pleased at the question. "Dobrý, dnés byl a hezký den."

Once the unwilling dog had been dragged out of the entrance door, the way inside the house was free. Hannibal slipped into the hallway and said his farewell to Mrs Davidková, "Nasklaj dáno."

"Nasklaj!" Another tug at the leash and woman and dog were on their way to the park.

Hannibal climbed the stairs to the third floor. He liked the Art Nouveau staircase with its wrought-iron railing. The wooden top of the railing had been sandpapered and painted last week and the coat of color was still flawless.

One last time of juggling and he was finally able to unlock the door to his apartment. The rooms were silent and made all his moves sound strangely loud. Hannibal carried his two bags to the kitchen and put them down on the counter. He would unpack everything later but he needed to put the fish into the fridge. Carefully digging the package with the trouts out of one bag, he noticed that Mr. Beneš had added a free sample of Chilean coffee to the bag.

After safely depositing the fish in the fridge, Hannibal left the kitchen for the living room. Today's newspaper was spread over the expensive designer leather couch. Some articles and ads in the 'Culture &amp; Events' part of the paper were highlighted in bright orange. He picked the daily up and scanned the marked areas. There was to be a vernissage in the small gallery two streets down and the National Opera would launch a two week special of Mozart.

The sudden presence behind him didn't startle Hannibal but he dropped the pages he had been reading and turned around. Will stood in the bedroom doorway, his clothes rumpled and his hair tousled. The younger man had to lean against the doorframe to keep from swaying. A yawn split his face and puffy eyes drifted close.

"How long did you stay up last night, Will?" Hannibal slowly approached the other man. "I heard you walking around at about four but I didn't hear you get out of bed."

"I couldn't sleep the whole night. Too much coffee and the movie was kind of scary." A slight blush tinted his cheeks.

It surprised Hannibal every time that Will, an Ex-Profiler, was scared into insomnia by horror movies. Resisting the urge to tease the younger man, he stopped in front of him and reached out and stroked the other's bare arms. "What movie did you watch this time?"

"The Dark. It's some movie where they do weird things with sheep."

"Is it now?" His hands grabbed hold of Will's upper arms and pulled the other into an embrace. "Stop watching those infernal movies."

"Okay." Will relaxed against him, inhaling Hannibal's scent. The younger man leaned into Hannibal's bulkier frame, finding the hold he needed.

Hannibal was sure that Prague had been the perfect choice.

_-THE END-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for the Czech words and phrases:
> 
> **Czech Word/Phrase English Translation**  
> Karlův Most - Charles Bridge  
> Vltava River - Moldau River  
> Hradčaný - Castle district/area  
> Vyšehrad - Old Castle (name)  
> Malá Strana - Small Quarter  
> Vaclavské Naměstí - Wencelslav Square  
> Staré Město - Old Town  
> Pražský Hrad - Prague Castle  
> Pařižská - Parisian Street  
> Josefov - Name of the Jewish Quarter  
> Dobrý večer! - Good evening! (greeting)  
> pan - Mister  
> Jak se máš? - How are you doing?  
> Dobrý. Mám se krásný, dekuju. - Good. I am fine, thank you.  
> Jak se mate paní Davidková? - How are you Mrs Davidková?  
> Dobrý, dnés byl a hezký den. - Good, today was a nice day.  
> Nasklaj dáno! - Good bye!  
> Nasklaj! - Good bye! (shortened version)


End file.
